


Sweet On You

by SweetsAndTreats



Category: Rune Factory (Video Games), Rune Factory 4
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Minor Angst, Pining, Rune Factory Big Bang 2020, developing crush, frey and lest co-run the town, grieving/death mention, hurt comfort, mention minor character death, post second arc, rune factory 4 spoilers past second arc, slow (enough) burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 51,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26054146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetsAndTreats/pseuds/SweetsAndTreats
Summary: Doug is generally a pretty chill guy. That's sort of his whole thing. But bending so easily to everything means that when he finally does snap, he breaks hard. And after dealing with a failed love confession in the worst possible way, he finds it's getting more and more difficult to regain his flexibility.Lest is generally pretty bored. And with Selphia existing in relative peace, he finds a source of entertainment in pushing Doug to his breaking point.[In which Doug rejects a love confession from Frey with a stunning lack of tact and an attempt by Lest to get back at and humiliate the source of his best friend’s misery turns into something more.]
Relationships: Doug/Lest (Rune Factory)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

Life had been nauseatingly slow in Selphia this past season, leaving an excess of time and nothing to do. The last of the spring crop had been planted weeks ago and wasn’t due for another few weeks still. Even the town had been suspiciously peaceful lately. Despite the recent change of season, it seemed the town was unable to shake the stagnancy of winter, and everything seemed slow-paced and foggy.

This left Lest bored out of his mind, and it was slowly driving him insane.

They’d been enjoying nearly two years of uninterrupted peace after Ethelberd had very nearly ruined the kingdom with his flying monstrosity. Nearly two years since Lest and Frey had come together to save the town and the kingdom from a madman. It had been one of the most surreal experiences of his life, and that included falling fifty feet from the air into the open-ceiling of a castle.

It had also been nearly two years since Ventuswill had passed on. That was definitely up there in Lest’s list of top surreal moments, too.

With their peace finally won, Lest had been ready for things to start going back to normal. But as it turned out, “normal” was really just a different word for “boring”.

Going out to fight monsters just didn’t feel as purposeful anymore, and all he and the princess had to entertain themselves with these days was the farm and their various other duties. Which was a far cry from the thrill of exploring and hosting battles with false dragon gods. Not to say Lest wasn’t grateful no one was in danger, but...it had just been so slow lately, is all.

But the change of pace Lest had been desperately longing for came to him while he was sprawled across the couch in his chambers, head buried in a book about irrigation.

The weather had been warming up lately, so he’d cracked the window open in hopes of catching some of the dry breeze running through town. Instead, he’d ended up catching every word and whisper of passersby in the town square. Not great for concentrated reading, but so far his unwillingness to get up from his position on the couch outweighed his annoyance at interruptions.

Although the scales were beginning to gratingly shift. As if to test his thinning patience, a particularly noisy group decided to pass right under his window, thoroughly pulling Lest’s attention away from a paragraph on soil quality. Lest groaned, shifting lower on the couch, and bringing his book forward until the pages nearly brushed against his nose.

But the commotion didn’t stop: quite the opposite, as several more voices joined in. Lest did his best to ignore them. The book he was reading was mildly interesting, and besides that, he’d finally been able to find a comfortable sitting position on the couch after nearly half an hour of fidgeting.

Slowly, the voices began dropping out into an almost unnatural quiet. “About time,” he muttered dryly.

Suddenly a loud, brash shout bounced through the window, warping across the tall stone walls of the room. Lest perked up, tensing.

Forcing a deep, steadying breath, he worked at unclenching his jaw. He didn’t venture beyond the town limits most days, not like he used to, but his reflexes hadn’t dulled since then. Like anything that dangerous happened near town these days anyway.

Although garbled, the voice outside was indistinguishably Doug’s. He relaxed completely at that. He and Dylas were probably just butting heads again and, as always, dragging everyone else’s peace along with them.

But the chatter outside didn’t stop: growing to the point Lest had to shove a pillow over one ear. It worked well enough. After a few moments of ignoring the dull shouting permeating the thin layer of duck down, Lest finally began to lose himself in his reading again.

Until another piercing yell from Doug tore right through his protective barrier, brazing his ear like nails. Lest let out a small, grumbling sigh, turning the page. Those two never got tired of each other, did they?

He’d managed to get a whole paragraph in this time before they started up again. But instead of Dylas’ rough voice cutting through the walls as Lest had expected, it was Forte’s.

It was enough for him to shut his book. “That can’t be good.”

He sat up, tilting his head towards the window to see if he could pick up some of what was going on outside. It sounded like it had turned into quite the commotion: Doug’s bold shouts mingling chaotically with Forte’s stern voice. But underneath it all, Lest heard the occasional interjection of a quieter, humbler tone. Frey.

This probably went beyond a petty squabble then, if she was getting herself involved. Heaving a sigh, Lest climbed off the couch, ruefully tossing his book onto the cushion. He stretched his arms above his head with a pop, shaking pins and needles from his legs as he made his way out the door and into the square.

The scene outside was nothing short of chaotic. A small crowd of locals and travelers had gathered in a scattered semi-circle around the main entrance, next to Eliza. Respectful distance or any semblance of privacy forgotten, everyone seemed eager to watch whatever scene was unfolding.

Doug and Forte were nowhere in sight, presumably the focus at the center of the congregation, but their voices carried high above the general din of the crowd.

That alone spelled trouble. With a small grunt, Lest pushed past several onlookers, until Doug’s familiar tomato-red hair bobbed into view. Across from him, stood Frey: Forte playing moderator between them.

“Oh boy,” Lest mumbled, already not liking the look of where this was going.

“Are you even listening to anything I’ve said, or are your ears full of wool?” Doug demanded loudly, his words not only comprehensible now, but far too loud for comfort. “I’ve told you thousands of times, that crap makes me sick! I can’t stand sweets, and I _hate_ bread!”

“W-well, I didn’t know…” Frey’s voice was just a shaky whisper now, and she sounded like she was on the verge of crying.

Lest hesitated, frozen at the edge of the crowd, debating the pros and cons of involving himself. Eventually, he settled on just seeing how things panned out, for now.

“Well, you should have! It’s literally the first damn thing I tell people. And I have several, _distinct_ , memories of telling you how disgusting pastries are. I’m sure I did. How could you think this could possibly be a good idea?” Doug rebutted quickly, his voice rough and angry.

“No, I _know_ you remember,” he continued hotly, “How stupid do you think I am? I bet you totally did this on purpose to...to...piss me off!”

“But, but I…”

“I don’t care how much time you spent on those stupid fruit pastries, don’t try and force them down my throat, wheat for brains!”

Frey made a small, choked noise that got garbled in the back of her throat, anything she might have had to say in response cracking incomprehensibly in her hurt and shock.

Lest’s mouth drew into a sharp line, eyes going wide. Even Doug fell silent, realizing he might have taken the insult too far. His face flashed quickly between apologetic and regretful, finally settling on a stubborn pout. “Now, hold on, I didn’t--”

“That’s enough!” Forte boomed, commanding the attention of every eye and ear in the square. 

“Now listen here, Doug,” she spat his name as if it tasted like something rotten, “I don’t care if it makes you wretch until your eyes turn red, but Frey spent a lot of time and care cooking for you. That fact alone should prove her good intentions. You should have been a man and accepted the gift without complaint.”

Forte’s eyes flickered to the ground a moment, before setting firmly back on Doug. Lest followed her gaze, surprised to find there were about half a dozen jam rolls littering the ground, alongside an overturned basket.

Ah. So that’s what had happened.

“Why does it even matter to you so much?” Doug said, apparently brave (or stupid) enough to challenge Forte on this. “This was totally on purpose! Frey was trying to--to provoke me -- what else? I told her last week, how much I _specifically_ hate jam rolls. How big of an airhead do you have to be to forget something like that?”

That had apparently been the wrong thing to say, as Frey cut off Forte before she had a chance to respond, the hurt in her eyes breaking suddenly into a chilling glare. She marched furiously towards Doug, accidentally squishing one of her own rolls in the process. Lest cringed, but Frey didn’t pause.

Now nose to nose with Doug, she stood her ground, fiercely glaring down the dwarf.

“You know what, Doug? I’m done.” Apparently not quite as collected as she’d appeared, Frey paused to take a shaky breath. “Believe me or not, not my problem, but I honestly _forgot_ . It was a _simple mistake_ , you jerk. Forte’s right, I don’t give a damn what was in that basket, you could have turned me down nicely. I honestly wouldn’t have cared!

“Instead, you throw all my hard work onto the ground and somehow find the nerve to blow up at _me_?” Her voice cracked towards the end of the sentence, forcing her to quickly blurt out the rest before pressing her mouth into a tight line. Even this far away, Lest could make out the slight quiver in Frey’s lower lip.

She shoved her pointer finger into Doug’s chest, jabbing him roughly with each word. “You could have pretended to like it, at least. _Pretended_ that--that all that time I spent wasn’t for nothing! Then you could’ve done whatever the hell you wanted with the rolls after. I think I at least deserved to be let down nicely, not--this.”

Finally, the bravado began to fade, and the hand pressed against Doug’s chest dropped limply to her side. Lest noticed Frey’s jaw tighten, her mouth working to hold down a sob through clenched teeth. Still, she held her ground firmly, eyes burning angrily.

Frey was strong, but it was clear she was close to breaking down, and anger seemed to be the only barrier between holding her stubborn defiance and tears.

“Really? Nothing?” Frey broke the silence, “Still think I’m acting like an asshole or whatever the hell you said for _making you food_?” Frey barked out a laugh, desperate and dry. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “This is ridiculous. I can’t believe I wasted time on you, you ungrateful jerk.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have,” Doug retorted, maintaining a carefully blank expression

“Glad we agree on that, then,” Frey countered icily. She stewed in the silence a moment, before stomping firmly on Doug’s foot, causing him to yelp in surprised pain. Only because Lest knew her well, had become so attuned to Frey’s reactions, did he see the tears finally spill over her cheeks the moment before she turned her back, and disappeared into the castle.

The silence that fell over the plaza was thick and awkward. Lest didn’t pay any mind to it, though, too distracted with his own thoughts. Something wasn’t sitting right with him. Had all this really been over some ill-received jam rolls? The sort of animosity he’d seen wasn’t characteristic of...either of them, really.

“Well, what are you all standing around staring for?” Forte’s sharp words cut through the oppressing air, startling several people around Lest. But it was enough: the crowd dispersed quickly, leaving Doug to lick his wounds alone.

Too quickly, Lest was the only one of the spectators left in the square.

Forte sighed, shaking her head as she approached Lest. “You saw all that, did you?”

He nodded. “Yeah...most of it, anyways. I’m sorry, I probably should have stepped in, but, they just seemed to be so caught up in it/ I thought I might only make things worse.”

Forte waved her hand flippantly at the thought. “Don’t concern yourself with it. That was Frey’s battle to fight, and she handled herself well. I’ll admit, it took some restraint to stay my sword at times, but Doug needed to hear it from the horse’s mouth, as it were.”

“Be that as it may, I’m shocked she held out against that idiot as long as she did,” Forte sent a pointed glare at Doug for a brief moment, though his back was turned. Her gaze returned to Lest, eyes tired. “I pray you know not to treat a girl in such an awful manner when the day comes she confesses her love to you.”

“Oh, uh...what?” Lest stumbled awkwardly, words tripping over one another in his surprise. “Is that what she was doing?”

Forte let another sigh escape her, this time deflating slightly. “Not outright, no. Although it was clear she was building to that just before Doug lost his temper.”

“How could you tell?” Lest peered around Forte’s shoulder at the idiot in question, who had begun to silently pick up the battered jam rolls and replace them in the basket.

“I’ve had my suspicions regarding her feelings for a while now, but the way she held herself, it was clear Frey was intending to make a move. Of some sort.”

Lest blinked, struggling to hide the surprise from his face. Frey had...liked Doug? Romantically? Since when? And how had Forte, one of the most notably dense people he’d ever met, figured it out before the person she literally lived with?

He supposed that made sense though, seeing how upset she’d gotten at Doug’s ‘rejection’. But all of this… “This isn’t like Doug,” Lest stated plainly. “I’ve never seen him get this worked up, even when he’s bickering with Dylas.”

Forte’s expression turned a bit sad at that, eyes casting to the side. “This is merely speculation, but...I don’t believe Doug’s tantrum had much of anything to do with the jam rolls. That boy has never been good with handling emotions, other people’s or his own. So there’s no surprise there.”

Again, she shot a warning look at Lest, “As I said before, be wary of that yourself in the future.”

Scrunching his nose, Lest felt a spike of irritation at Forte’s vague answer. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Forte chuckled. “Nevermind. Forget I said anything.” She patted him lightly on the head with a soft smile. He tried to swat her hand away, but Forte had already turned her back on him, walking out of the square.

Leaving Doug to his own devices, Lest followed suit, deciding it was time to be a good roommate and check in on Frey. Whether Forte’s assumption had been accurate or not, she’d been in a bad way earlier regardless. He still felt uneasy about just...watching everything happen. Despite what Forte’d said. Perhaps he could make things a little better for Frey by talking to her.

Despite walking right past Doug on his way back into the castle, the dwarf didn’t spare him a parting glance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's my piece for the Rune Factory Big Bang event hosted by RFWeeks ( https://twitter.com/rf_weeks ) / TatertotArmy ( https://tatertotarmy.tumblr.com/ ). It's been a lot of fun working on this project for the last few months, and I'm so excited to finally be able to share the final product! It definitely turned out a lot longer than I'd expected. Like a looot, but I figure Rune Factory could do with a few more slow-burn chapter fics anyways.
> 
> Please check out the amazing art piece that accompanies this fic, by PinkSwampGoblin here: https://twitter.com/PinkSwampGoblin/status/1297855068121772032?s=20 ! I'll include the full piece when it's relevant later in the fic as well, but I would seriously recommend checking out their amazing art in the meantime :D
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr at Sweet--Bun


	2. Chapter 2

Lest slumped forward, his shoulders falling limply. His back and neck were killing him with sharp, sudden pangs that ran through his body all the way through his limbs.

Frey had been in a mood, to put it lightly. At least, she hadn’t been in any state for company when Lest had, awkwardly, tried to comfort her. She’d made it very clear she had nothing to say to anyone before giving him the cold shoulder. That didn’t change the fact that they still did, technically, live together. And there was only so much Lest could take of watching her drift listlessly from room to room wallowing before it was too uncomfortable to stick around.

Lest straightened, twisting his back from side to side. He let out an unsatisfied grunt when the stretch didn’t bring any relief to his stiff spine.

He’d had to take his reading elsewhere, and that had led him here: sitting on the hard stone floor of what used to be Ventuswill’s chambers. The room was not only drafty, but lacked any proper seating, so Lest had spent the majority of the afternoon hunched over his book on the floor, trying to ignore the pins and needles in his legs.

“Lest!”

He winced at the booming voice as Volcannon emerged from the butlers’ wing of the castle, wearing a broad grin. Doing his best to not let the minor irritation at yet another interruption show on his face, Lest weakly returned the smile with a sorry excuse for a grimace.

“Evening, Volcannon. Making the rounds early, tonight?” He hoped so, maybe then he’d pass on quickly: Lest really wasn’t in a very “Volcannon-y” mood after the day he’d been having.

“Not quite, your highness. Actually, have you seen Miss Frey around today? I had something I’d wanted to bring up with her. More of a favor, actually, but she seems to have turned to smoke!” Volcannon punctuated the statement with a deep, throaty chuckle that filled the empty chamber until Lest’s head was throbbing.

“No--no I mean, I haven’t seen her. At all. Today,” Lest blurted out quickly. If  _ he _ wasn’t in the mood for an overly-peppy butler, he knew Frey would have a much harder time with it.

“No worries at all. I’ll just check in on her personal quarters again, see if she’s come back yet. Now, if you’ll excuse me--”

“Wait, you can’t go in there! She’s not-- I mean, uh, I-I’ll do it! I mean, you said you needed a favor?” The words fell out of his mouth without thought. Lest really hoped he hadn’t just agreed to do something unpleasant.

Volcannon’s grin broadened, if such a thing was possible, and he crossed the room towards Lest cheerily. Cursing his numb legs, Lest managed to stagger to his feet just as Volcannon clapped him firmly on the shoulder, nearly sending him back to the ground again. Biting back an irritated grunt, Lest merely offered the butler a watery smile.

“Fantastic! Oh sir Lest, you truly are one of a kind. So generous, so giving, willing to bear the burden of another without hesitation!” Volcannon was sniffling now, and it looked like more waterworks were aiming to follow.

“Yeah, uh, thanks.” Having had more than enough with crying and tears today, Lest quickly patted the butler on the arm, eager to get this over with. “Hey, so what exactly was this...favor?”

“Ah, yes, yes, of course.” Pulling a handkerchief from a pocket inside his coat to dab at his slightly damp eyes, Volcannon got in one last, big sniffle before continuing. “I hate to ask this of you -- either of you -- but Clorica’s been under the weather since Thursday, and Vishnal still hasn’t returned from an errand I sent him on earlier.”

“But...what do you need me to do?” Lest pressed again, biting the inside of his cheek to keep the edge from his voice.

“Would you mind running down to the clinic for me? Jones mentioned an inquiry on paperwork regarding the building they’re operating out of in passing the other day, but he hasn’t had the chance to bring anything to me directly yet. My best guess is that he’s been too busy with his work to stop in. Oh, how valiant a doctor, so dedicated to the town and his patients...willing to sacrifice his personal hours for his passion...how inspiring.”

Quickly sensing the return of the tears, Lest pressed on: “So, you want me to pick up some paperwork?” There were worse ways he could spend his time. “That’s it?”

“Yes, very kind of you to offer. Oh, sir Lest, you truly are doing me the greatest of favors, I am humbled by your limitless kindness!” Volcannon, ever the bleeding heart, coughed on a half-sob as tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

“Alright, cool, I can do that,” Lest got out in a rush, quickly turning his back on Volcannon before he had to deal with another breakdown. “I’ll be back soon,” he called, before stepping out into the twilit square.

It was far quieter out here, something Lest was infinitely grateful for. The air was cool on his skin, if not a bit muggy. The sun had set behind the darkly silhouetted trees of Yokmir Forest in the distance, but its light hadn’t quite left the sky, casting everything in a strange orange light that made it hard to see. Still, anything beat being trapped in an empty throne room with an emotional butler.

Lest loved Volcannon, he really did. The man had an outstanding character and was a model butler in every sense of the word. But even Lest...had his limits.

Lest paused, as a firefly drifted in front of him, low and sluggish in its path towards the narrow stream that cut through town. The water babbled quietly, lulling him out of the present and into a more peaceful state of mind. Some of the throbbing in his head had begun to dull, the ache in his limbs receding into something hardly noticeable. Nature had always had a rejuvenating effect on Lest. Maybe it was an Earthmate thing.

Another firefly pressed by him, lightly bumping his arm, reminding him that the summer season would be upon them soon. Lest wrinkled his nose. He didn’t much care for working the farm in the intense summer heat. It always made him feel...what was the opposite of clammy? Hot. And sweaty, and generally unpleasant.

Maybe if he asked nicely, Frey would let him stay on monster barn duty until the fall rolled around.

The clinic was slightly cooler when he crossed the threshold, and a lot less humid. Lest took a deep breath, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the bright, sterile lights in the building. He was greeted with the sight of a lone Nancy, kneeling by one of the medical cots. Amber sat in front of her, sniveling so loudly neither of them noticed when Lest entered the room.

Both of Amber’s knees were a shiny, raw red and one of them had a nasty-looking scrape through it. Paired with the caked dirt covering her head to toe and the small cuts and bruises smattering her arms, Lest was able to put together what might have happened.

He shook his head, clicking his tongue. Hopefully Amber hadn’t fallen too far this time. The last time he’d seen her like this, she’d been trying to sleep in a sunny patch on the roof of the castle.

Even though he was practically right next to her, it took Nancy several moments to notice him. Eventually, she perked up, a small amount of energy reappearing in her tired face. She deflated when her eyes fell on Lest, although the thin smile stayed set on her face. She must have been expecting him to be someone else.

“Good evening, Lest,” her voice sounded tired, “I’m sorry, but my hands are a bit full at the moment. I shouldn’t be too much longer, though, if it can wait.”

“Oh, um, actually I’m here for Jones. Volcannon sent me. He uh, wanted me to pick up some forms or something, about the clinic I think,” Lest supplied unhelpfully.

“Hmm,” Nancy paused, a roll of bandages in hand as her face clouded briefly. “Again, I’m sorry to tell you, but Jones is out at the moment. I wish I could be more of a help, but I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait until he returns.” Nancy cast a mildly concerned look towards the door, “It’s nearly dark anyways, so it shouldn’t be too long. Hopefully.”

Lest shrugged. “I don’t mind waiting,” anything beat a stiff floor and a moping roommate, “I mean, if that’s okay.”

Nancy nodded slowly. “Of course.” She waved a hand around the reception area of the clinic, gesturing to the several creaky stools that were set up as an attempt at a waiting room.

Lest didn’t move to sit, even after Nancy had turned back to tend Amber, instead opting to lean against the far wall: arms crossed loosely over his chest. His legs were still aching from an afternoon of sitting on the floor, and somehow he didn’t think an old wooden stool would be a vast improvement.

He watched as Nancy wrapped the roll of bandage slowly around Amber’s leg, the motion slow and careful. Lest found himself drawn in by Nancy’s gentle movements, and the soft tune she hummed as she worked, quickly becoming drowsy. He’d zoned out so thoroughly, that Nancy had to say his name several times before he really processed it.l

“Lest?”

He cocked his head to the side, eyes sliding down to meet Nancy’s. “Oh, um, yes?”

“Actually, since you’ve got a little bit of free time before Jones is back...might I ask a favor?”

Lest sighed quietly. Asked to play errand-boy again. Regardless, he pushed off the wall silently. “Sure. What do you need?”

Amber let out a small whimper, and Nancy turned back to the girl, shushing her soothingly as she began to scoop a clear salve from a small bottle in her other hand, spreading it gently across Amber’s knee.

Without turning from her work, Nancy nodded towards a small leather satchel that sat on the counter beside her. “Blossom has been feeling a bit under the weather lately. We’ve already prescribed her some cold medicine, but apparently she’s been having some issues sleeping at night. This is to help with that. I’d meant to deliver it myself, but we’ve been a bit short-staffed today. I haven’t had the chance to run down to the general store yet.”

“Sure, I can drop off some medicine.” Really, Lest didn’t mind the excuse to stretch his legs some more. And anyways, he liked feeling useful. Carefully stepping around Nancy, Lest grabbed the bag from the counter. It was surprisingly light, and strangely warm to the touch.

He paused on his way towards the door, turning to pat Amber gently on the head. “Stay strong, Amber.”

She sniffled loudly again. “Thank you. Bye, Lest.” He waved back at her on his way out.

Lest’s walk over was short, and it wasn’t long before he found himself facing the faded oak door of the general store, leather satchel clutched loosely in one hand. Granny Blossom had always been so impossibly kind to him and Frey. With the demands of the farm sending them to and from the store so often, she’d really been one of the first people either of them had formed any sort of real bond with. And she’d always been good to them.

Lest frowned slightly. He didn’t like the idea that she was sick. Doug must be beside himself with worry over her.

Swallowing down the small prick of irritation that rose with thoughts of the dwarf, Lest raised his fist to the warm wood, knocking three times in rapid succession. There was no response.

So he waited, busying himself with studying the curling patterns of the wood on the door. After what he guessed had been more than adequate time for  _ someone _ to come downstairs, he tried again: knocking more firmly this time.

“Hello? Anyone home?” His voice sounded alien in the quiet, late-spring evening.

This was immediately followed by a loud crash somewhere inside the store. Lest swore under his breath, mostly from shock. His immediate thought was on the old, faded staircase in the corner of the shop. If that was Blossom...he had better check this out.

“I’m coming in,” Lest announced, quickly trying the handle to (luckily) find it turn easily under his frantic grip. Pushing inside, he prayed he wouldn’t find Blossom in a fallen heap at the base of the stairs, or something equally terrible.

The scene he walked in on instead was still worrying, but mostly strange. Doug was hunched over the register counter, shoveling the contents of a small pudding dish quickly into his mouth. Lest drew a complete blank, staring ahead with an incredulous expression.

Doug didn’t seem to notice anyone else was in the shop until the door clicked shut behind Lest, trapping him in this incredibly weird situation. Doug stopped immediately, gaze wrenching up and landing accusingly on Lest.

For his part, Lest merely opened his mouth, before deciding to close it again. Staring ahead, he schooled his face, raising a single, questioning eyebrow.

The spoon fell limply from Doug’s hand, the sound of it clattering against the counter shattering the stillness and launching him into motion. He hurriedly grabbed the dish in both hands, shoving it roughly under the counter with far too much force, all the while glaring daggers into Lest who hadn’t moved an inch.

“Y-y-you shouldn’t just  _ barge into _ people’s houses like that, idiot!” Doug accused nastily, his face heating from rage or embarrassment, Lest couldn’t tell.

“This is the general store,” Lest remarked flatly, crossing his arms.

“Well,” Doug faltered a moment, but that only seemed to work him up more, “Tough! We’re closed.”

Lest paced forward, slowly approaching the counter, keeping his gait carefully uninterested. “Fair enough. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your...well, I would call it eating, but it looked more like you were attacking it than anything else.”

“Shuddup! That’s none of your business. Now get out!”

“Hmm, maybe.” Lest set one hand lightly on the counter, now close to invading Doug’s personal space and obviously making the dwarf nervous. “Probably not, though. I don’t like being yelled at, much.” He side-stepped the counter, causing Doug to quickly hide the dish they both knew existed behind his back. A small, impish smile twitched at Lest’s lips. “Whatcha got there?”

He took another step forward, only for Doug to stutter back. He seemed a little flustered now, which was definitely not helping the red heating his face, but somehow Doug still managed to look offended: pouting like a little kid caught sticking their hand in a cookie jar.

Lest was less than a foot from him now, Doug’s only escape route blocked by a line of shelves filled with bags of flour. The air felt hot, and heavy in the silence. Darting forward quickly, Lest left Doug barely a moment to skip around him so that they’d swapped places behind the counter. He held the half-empty dish at arm’s length away from Lest, who was admittedly a bit impressed by Doug’s reflexes.

He made another fruitless swipe for it, only to have Doug hold the cup childishly above his head. Despite being a dwarf, Doug was decently tall. At least enough that he managed to have at least a couple inches on Lest, so if he wanted to make another swipe for the dish he’d need to jump up and down for it. And Lest refused to do something so humiliatingly childish.

Instead, he schooled his face, angling his head to peer up at the cup: attempting to discern its contents through the murky glass bottom. It didn’t take long before a smug grin lit his face. “Bread pudding?” Lest sounded incredulous as he straightened himself, staring at Doug in mocking disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

Doug stiffened, looking very uncomfortable. Lest didn’t care, he kept going with a small, barking laugh. “Now, I’m no culinary expert, but I’m  _ pretty sure _ that’s got bread in it. As well as quite a bit of sugar. And - tell me if I have it wrong - but weren’t those the two things you were making such a fuss over earlier in the plaza?”

He caught Doug flinch, the dwarf’s eyes flickering to his feet as his face began to tinge pink again.

“I thought you hated bread,” Lest pressed, met with begrudging silence. “I mean, I knew that already, of course. But wasn’t your whole speech about how much you hated sweets as well? To the point that you got physically sick?”

“Shut up,” Doug’s expression was frustrated, and clouded with guilt, as he stared holes into the floor. His shoulders were hunched at his ears, hands stiff at his sides. He didn’t even notice when Lest took another step forward, leaving little room between them.

“You were quite forceful about the whole thing, too,” Lest added disinterestedly. Although he couldn’t help the small amount of satisfaction this whole situation was giving him: watching the boy who’d humiliated his best friend, and essentially ruined the rest of Lest’s day by extension, brought down to a guilty, stammering mess.

“This is different, alright?” Doug spouted defensively, eyes sweeping the ground as he struggled to find the right words.

“You’re fighting this?” Lest remarked, nothing but mild surprise evident in his tone.

Doug shifted to squint up at him. “I--I do hate sweets, I wasn’t  _ lying _ ,” his voice was hostile, edged with that stubborn defensiveness. “And bread is disgusting, it’s like an evil spongy demon of a food. I can’t even smell it without gagging.” He made a sour face. “It’s so  _ dry _ and  _ starchy _ and--and it makes me wanna puke. But--”

Doug was cut off as Lest darted forward quickly, taking him off guard and managing to snag the pudding dish from his hand. Doug flinched forward, shoulders tensing, but seemed to decide against trying to fight him for the dish.

Lest tilted the cup back and forth in his hand, pretending to examine the contents. “Now, you see how I can’t believe you, right? Because this here is telling me a very different story.” He barely glanced up at Doug, the hint of a smirk barely apparent on his face.

“Just drop it, will you?” Doug growled lowly, pouting again. Such a child, honestly.

Lest let out a small noise of resignation. “Sure. Here: catch.” He casually tossed the glass container to Doug, who stumbled forward quickly: fumbling with it a bit before finally grasping the dish with a sigh of relief. He set it down on the counter, before whirling on Lest, anger apparent on his face.

Apparently, that had been the straw to break the camel’s back. Or, the dwarf’s temper, as it were.

“What’s your problem, man?” Doug demanded.

“I’m not the one with the problem here.” Lest leaned his full weight against the counter, resting one forearm on the cool surface. He felt his mouth quirk, and whatever look he must’ve been making was enough to get Doug to grumble irritably again.

Lest bit his lower lip, pretending to become suddenly fascinated with a bit of dirt on the counter. “Besides, you should be less concerned with me and more so with how Frey’s going to take it when she finds out you demolished her cooking for no good reason.”

Doug’s face flashed from angry to horrified in record time. “I--oh gods, Lest, please you can’t--” Just as quickly, Doug’s expression hardened again. “You better not tell her anything,” he snarled accusingly, “And like I said, I  _ wasn’t lying _ . I seriously hate those disgusting buns she tried to force on me. She  _ knew _ that, I’ve told her before, I  _ know _ I have.

“This is all,” Doug snorted, losing some of his fire for a brief moment, “This was totally on purpose! Some--stupid prank, or something, to piss me off.”

“Doug, come on.” Lest felt his composure crack, an edge of irritation creeping into his voice. Was he really trying to play the victim card? Ridiculous. “Perhaps she, like I just did, happened to find out you were full of dragonshit and was genuinely trying to do something  _ nice _ for you. Although i can’t imagine why.” The last comment fell out under his breath, escaping Doug’s attention.

Doug grimaced. “I’m serious though: bread, sweets, it’s all so gross that seeing it makes me wanna hurl. But this is just...ugh, it’s different, alright? Bread Pudding doesn’t taste like bread  _ or _ pudding, so it doesn’t count. It’s like, gooey and spongy. It’s not even that sweet, sorta like...a huge grain of sticky rice.”

Lest cocked an eyebrow, some of his irritation giving way to bemusement. “You know that stuff has a ton of sugar in it, right? That’s all it is: sugar, eggs, and bread?”

“I’m not stupid,” Doug snapped, taking a step forward.

Lest responded by leaning in closer himself, impish grin sliding back in place on his face. “Aw, and you still force yourself to wolf it down anyways?” Lest poked cheekily. “Or maybe little Dougie’s got a soft spot for sweets after all.” He chirped without endearment, poking Doug sharply in the side.

Doug hissed in a sharp breath, swatting Lest’s hand away. “Seriously, what is your deal? Why are you even here?”

Lest shifted only for Doug -- apparently not keen on getting poked again -- to grab him roughly by the wrist. Lest blinked up with a mixture of apathy and mild surprise.

“Really man, knock it off! What the hell is up with you today, you’re being really weird.” Doug huffed loudly. “What I eat in my house is my business! I shouldn’t have to say that, you’re--you’re being ridiculous.” Doug released him with a huff, raking a hand through his hair.

“You may want to keep it down a bit, you’re getting pretty loud for how late it’s getting,” Lest sighed, straightening himself. “Ah, unless you _ wanted _ to keep her awake,” he nodded upstairs. “Somehow, I really don’t think Blossom would be happy with you getting into fights in the store after hours.”

Doug grabbed the front of Lest’s tunic suddenly, yanking him forward. Lest made a small sound of surprise, caught off guard.

“Get out of my store then, and go home,” Doug hissed, noticeably lowering his voice to barely a whisper.

Lest decided it was...much less entertaining to poke fun at Doug when he wasn’t being loudly riled up. The quiet irritation being almost uncanny.

“Doesn’t take much to strike a nerve with you, does it?” Lest teased with an easy grin.

“Out!” Doug whisper-yelled, shoving Lest roughly towards the door.

“Alright, alright. You don’t have to tell me twice.” He raised his hands in surrender, closely tailed by Doug as he backed towards the door. Turning around, his hand lingered a moment on the handle. “Right, almost forgot.”

Doug flinched when Lest tossed him the small satchel of medicine, barely catching it in time. “I stopped by to drop off some medicine from Jones for Blossom. It’s to help her sleep. Give her my best,” Lest paused in the doorway. “Oh, and a word of advice from Forte: next time a girl confesses to you? It’s probably best to not scream in her face.”

His back was to Doug so he couldn’t gauge the dwarf’s reaction, but the room suddenly felt a lot quieter. Closing the door behind him, Lest found himself once again in the muggy coolness of the night, the breeze abrasing the light flush of his cheeks.

He had, needless to say, gotten a bit more worked up in there than he’d really meant to. Biting back a sigh, he forced himself to begin the walk back to the castle.

Everything said Lest was generally a pretty laid back person. It took a lot to actually irritate him, and even more for him to act on his annoyance. But he’d be lying if he said that what Doug had done to Frey this afternoon hadn’t bothered him, perhaps a bit more than he’d let on even to himself until just now.

But it had been surprisingly easy to get a rise out of Doug, and messing with him had been strangely...cathartic.

Shaking away the sudden, strange fuzziness in his head, Lest pressed forward: stumbling his way back home in the dark.

He returned to a snoring castle. Well, so much for his urgent errand. That was fine: after everything, he’d ended up forgetting to go back to Jones regardless.

Anyways, Lest had much better ideas of what to do with his time now.

\--

An hour or so later, Frey stumbled sleepily into the kitchen, her eyes noticeably dark and cheeks blotchy. “Lest,” she mumbled, rubbing at her eyes with the sleeve of her pajama top, “What are you doing up so late? Are you…” Frey blinked, disbelieving. “Are you cooking? It’s like, three in the morning.”

“Go back to sleep,” he assured her without taking his attention off the batter he was mixing.

“Lest.” He glanced up at her briefly to see her staring at him. “Why.”

He shrugged. “Just trying to kill some time, is all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lest is absolutely a chaotic gremlin, and you can fight me on that.


	3. Chapter 3

“Oh, hey Doug,” Lest said cheerfully, lowering the book he’d been reading with a faux-innocent smile. The lilting, borderline teasing tone of his voice made the budding skepticism in Doug’s face grow into full out suspicion.

“What’s this all about?” Doug asked after a moment of hesitation. He seemed remarkably composed compared to the previous night, showing nothing more than a guarded curiosity as he folded his arms loosely over his chest.

Lest sat behind the worn wooden table he’d dragged into the plaza earlier that morning, hands resting lightly on the chipping finish, surrounded by a frankly ridiculous amount of pastries. Nearly every inch of the table’s surface was covered in plates of sweets, but Lest regarded Doug neutrally, as if this were the most normal thing a person could be doing with their Saturday morning.

He shrugged. “Got bored. Decided to try some new variations on old recipes.” When he was only met with a baffled silence, Lest elaborated with a small wave of his hand. “I do most of the cooking in the castle. See, Clorica’s the only other person whose food is even close to edible, but she’s busy with her own work most days. But I’m worried my cooking’s gotten a little predictable lately,” for his part, Lest attempted a truly concerned look, steepling his fingers in front of him,

“And well,” he breathed a sigh, “This is the product of trying to find some variety, I guess. It’s going to go bad before  _ we _ can eat it all of course, so i decided to put it out for anyone who might want some.” Lest gestured apathetically across the table, which stretched at least a good six or so feet past where he sat. Even he had to admit that the sheer volume of sweets was borderline ridiculous, but there was no backing out now. Especially not since Doug had finally thought to take notice of his efforts.

“That includes you, of course,” Lest continued, pretending to become interested in his book again. “Take as much as you like.” He was proud that his voice only had a small, creeping note of mocking antagonism.

“Oh, awesome!” Doug’s excitement was poorly restrained at the mention of free food, but ended up being short-lived: replaced by a dawning dread that showed brilliantly in the shocked look on his face as he slowly realized that the “food” was actually variations on different sweetbreads.

“These,” Doug swallowed thickly, “Are all...jam rolls.” The dull horror in his voice was evident, slowly mounting as he once again surveyed the dozens of jelly-filled rolls piled on the table. He visibly paled when his eyes finally landed on Frey, who was chatting with Dolly at the other end of the table.

“I gotta go,” he managed to get out shakily.

Lest’s hand shot out, grabbing Doug’s sleeve before he had the chance to escape. He turned a sickly sweet smile on the dwarf, which turned his face from white to green. “What,” he posed sweetly, “Don’t you want anything? Like I said, it’s all going to spoil anyways. Really, you’re going to end up hurting my feelings Doug, I  _ know _ how much you like free food. Oh, plus,” he released his grip on the dwarf, who shrunk away but made no further attempt at escape: rooted to the spot with skeptical confusion.

“They’re not  _ all _ jam rolls,” Lest smiled slyly as he pushed a rather large platter of bread pudding towards Doug across the table.

Doug swallowed thickly, eyes flashing from anxious to angry so fast he just ended up looking like he was going to be sick. Amidst his internal confusion, he didn’t seem to notice the unconscious step he took towards the table. Or the next. Doug bit his lower lip.

It was becoming incredibly difficult to hold down the laugh building in Lest’s throat at watching how hard Doug was trying to keep from looking desperate. Another step, and it looked like he might actually give in. But at the last second, he looked up, casting an anxious look around at the various townsfolk surrounding the table, lured out by the promise of free food.

Eyes going wide, he seemed to finally have the realization that this scene very closely resembled a shockingly similar encounter yesterday.

Which left him with two options: accept Lest’s offering (when he had so passionately denied the same thing of Frey the day before), or to turn him down. And since Lest was certain Doug was incapable of doing either gracefully, it left the dwarf effectively stuck.

“I made everything myself,” Lest coaxed, leaning across the table with a smirk. “I even got most of the ingredients from the farm.” It had only taken him practically all morning to make, it was fine.

It was all well worth it anyway, seeing the current expression on Doug’s face.

“You,” Doug’s eyes flashed to Lest, the burning anger in them quickly fizzling out to be replaced with a slight grimace, “You’re sick.” Although he himself appeared rather nauseous as Doug once again looked out across the piles of pastries.

Lest leaned forward, closing several inches between them. “Don’t fight it, just take it. I know how much you want to,” he said quietly enough only Doug would hear.

He didn’t immediately refuse. In fact, Lest caught his hand twitching towards the table unconsciously, almost as if he were about to reach out and accept the thorned olive branch. But at the last second, Doug seemed to come back to himself, shaking his head firmly.

“You’re seriously messed up, man,” Doug’s voice was strained.

“You  _ sure _ you don’t want anything?” Lest trilled, folding his hands under his chin casually.

“No. Thank you,” Doug grit out.

He wasn’t getting off this easy, not for all the work Lest had put in.

“Oh! Wait, that’s right,” he said, a bit louder than necessary. Lest pulled the dish away with a flourish. “How rude of me, I completely forgot! You hate sweet bread, don’t you?” He shook his head, forcing an overly pained expression onto his face. “Now I feel especially stupid for forgetting: I bet even the Sechs know how much you hate pastries from how loudly you’ve been shouting about it lately.”

This last line had any remaining heads turning their attention on the pair. Including Frey, of course, who was now half-watching the scene Lest was making. Doug took a shaky step away from the table.

“Gods, I’m such an idiot,” Lest continued with a shake of his head, “How could I have thought to offer you something that could make you sick? That was incredibly out of line. I’m so sorry Doug, you’ll have to forgive me for so carelessly endangering your delicate palate with my cooking. Even after you’ve made it  _ more than clear _ how much you hate sweets. My behavior’s been despicable, really.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t blame you at all if you wanted to simply cut me and Frey off entirely. Gods forbid, we might do something else to upset you.” Alright, so maybe a bit hammy, but Lest’s rant seemed to have effectively driven his point home.

Frey wasn’t even trying to hide the amused smile from her face, even going so far as to snicker quietly at the last part of his rant. Doug, on the other hand, was having a much worse time of things and had turned a brilliant shade of red under the sudden, scrutinizing attention.

Lest rose, leaning across the table with an innocent smile that hardly masked the daggers shooting from his glare. “You’ve gotten pretty quiet,” he smirked, “Something wrong?”

Doug was fuming at this point, Lest’s snide comment doing nothing but fuel his anger. He opened his mouth, a sharp retort hanging on his lips, but Lest cut him off before he had the chance to respond. “I’d think pretty carefully about whatever you were going to shout at me, if I were you,” Lest shot quietly. “Well, unless you want to publicly make an ass of yourself  _ two _ days in a row.”

Doug’s mouth snapped shut, taking a long moment to collect himself. “ _ Lest _ . Good luck. With your stupid little bake sale,” Doug grit out, with a seemingly great deal of restraint.

Lowering himself back onto the wooden stool, Lest propped his elbows on the table, leaning his cheek into the back of one hand. “Not sure this counts as much of a bake  _ sale _ since we’re not actually selling anything. But thanks anyway. Sure you don’t want something?”

“Fuck off,” Doug said bitterly.

Lest hummed. “Hm. Let me know if you change your mind,” he tacked on as Doug slunk out of the plaza, shoulders hunched around his ears.

“Such a short-fuse,” Lest marveled under his breath, not quite registering that he’d said the thought aloud. Shrugging, he picked up his book off the table and leaned back in his stool, flipping to the page he’d dog-eared.

His eyes skimmed the words without actually reading them, mind wandering back to Doug’s incredibly entertaining reaction to Lest’s teasing. At least the hours he’d spent in the kitchen last night had proved well worth it: nothing this interesting had happened since Bado’d tried pawning off a pole-ax that could catch fish.

“Hey.” Lest glanced up at the soft voice, finding Frey had appeared suddenly at his shoulder: surprising him, but no more than to pull his attention up from his book. “Thanks,” she muttered, eyes tracing the ground, “For standing up for me, for, ya know. Yesterday. Or, well, whatever that was you just did.” Her eyes drifted to the empty stairs where Doug had stalked away moments before.

Frey brushed some hair behind her ear almost shyly. “It means a lot.”

Lest hummed, turning back to his book with a coy smile, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Hey,” Frey punched him lightly in the shoulder. “I’m serious, you weirdo. Thanks. Really.”

Lest didn’t respond, but could feel the smile on his lips tug a bit wider.

\--

Obviously, Lest wasn’t close to done messing with Doug.

His attempt at pettily getting back him had revealed that the dwarf was surprisingly fun to mess with. Maybe Dylas’d had the right idea all this time after all.

Either way, teasing Doug was something to do if nothing else, despite the borderline ridiculous amount of preparation it had taken. Ever since Ventuswill had disappeared two years ago and the Sechs Empire had calmed down considerably, life in Selphia had been so slow Lest could have outpaced it at a walking speed.

Considering this was the most drama he’d seen in years, he might not have otherwise been kneeling on the rough cobblestone under the eaves of the castle next to Eliza as she cheerily chatted away about the weather yesterday. He had a small cooking dish balanced uncomfortably under one arm, his legs cramping terribly from crouching for so long.

Lest grumbled lowly to himself, shifting his weight onto the other foot which caused pins and needles to shoot up through his leg. Jeez, what was taking Doug so long.

He was  _ always _ wandering through the plaza at this time of day when the general store closed briefly for lunch. Gods knew he’d heard him and Dylas get in enough fights out here in the early afternoons.

Just as Lest was beginning to reconsider the whole thing Doug, as if on cue, appeared at the edge of the square. Lest’s smile came out as more of a grimace, warped by the ache in his legs.

He was alone, which worked out perfectly. Rising with only a small, pained grunt Lest stalked up behind Doug, easily sidestepping in front of him and effectively stopping the dwarf short.

“Afternoon, Doug,” he said chipperly. Doug flinched, stumbling back a little. He appraised Lest skeptically, expression guarded.

Lest stood stiffly, small stabs of pain piercing his legs uncomfortably from running after keeping the same position for so long. He hoped the discomfort didn’t show on his face.

“How’s Blossom?” He tried, when Doug didn’t respond right away.

“...fine.” His answer came slowly. “She’s been...doing better today, I guess. Than she has been. She, uh, managed to get out of bed. So that’s something, I figure.” As Doug continued to talk about Blossom, mostly mundane facts about her condition, Lest could already see him physically unwind. Everything about him softened: and by the time he started talking about how helpful the medication he’d brought in had been, Lest almost felt a little guilty for what he was about to spring on him.

Not quite enough to walk away entirely, though.

“That’s good...I’m glad she’s feeling better,” Lest responded, a bit distractedly when Doug finally finished. Lest remained standing in the middle of his path, unmoving.

Doug’s gaze shifted away awkwardly, tracing the cobblestone at his feet. An uneasy silence fell between them and, for the first time since running into him, Doug’s eyes traveled down to land on the container tucked under Lest’s arm.

“What, uh,” Doug hesitated, and it was clear on his face he was debating even posing the question. “Whatcha got there?”

“Oh, this?” Lest smiled, adjusting the dish again. It wasn’t even that heavy, but after holding it for so long it was starting to make his arms hurt. “Leftovers. From yesterday. I was a bit shocked this didn’t go, actually, everything else was so popular. Strange, I thought my bread pudding would have been one of the first to run out.” He shrugged.

The words were innocent enough, but the edge in his tone had Doug paling. “Why?” Lest asked, grin turning sly, “You want some?”

Doug swallowed thickly, mouth straightening into a tight line.

“Go ahead, I don’t mind,” Lest coaxed. “I’ve seen how much you like the stuff.” He tilted his head forward, slightly entering Doug’s space.

“Oh, well,” Doug’s face was clouded for a moment, before parting into a bright look of recognition and excitement. “You’re just  _ giving  _ it to me?” He glanced around him quickly, but they were alone in the square. His face flashed to brief confusion, before falling quickly to a heavy suspicion. “Just like that?”

“Sure. Why not,” Lest said.

“This isn’t like you,” His face fell a fraction. “Look, I--I see what this is. You’re being  _ weird _ again. I have no goddamn clue what you even think you’re accomplishing with all this but--look, I’m not  _ stupid _ , alright?” Doug’s voice rose as he spoke.

“No kidding,” Lest punctuated with a disbelieving grin.

Doug ground his teeth, opening his mouth for a quick retort, but reconsidering at the last moment. He took a long breath before speaking again. “Listen. I’m...sorry, alright? Is that what you’re looking for? An apology?” He scoffed, “I still think you two are in on this, somehow...but whatever, you’re right, I shouldn’t have... _ yelled _ so much, at Frey. There. Happy? You’ll leave me alone now?”

When Lest didn’t respond immediately, Doug snorted irritatedly, shouldering past him. Unsatisfied, Lest trailed after.

“I’m offended,” Lest said, mock-hurt, “I offer you free food - which I extended to the  _ rest _ of the town too, if you’ll remember - and you think this is, what, some scheme to get back at you for some fight that had nothing to do with me?” Lest realized the biting hypocrisy in his words. But so what. That was far beside the point.

Doug faltered, seeming to reconsider. But then he shook his head, continuing forward at a slightly faster pace. “C’mon dude, I’m not  _ that _ thick. A whole bunch of jam rolls? That’s not coincidence. You’re both trying to get in my head for...some reason.”

“Frey had nothing to do with this,” Lest shot bitterly, without thinking. This earned a small, surprised glance from Doug. But he quickly shook his head.

“Argue as much as you want, I know you’re just messing with me. I’m not giving you the satisfaction man, sorry.”

Lest scoffed, pushing his speed to keep up with Doug. “Really, you’re going to imply that I spent all this time making sweets to, what, get a rise out of you? Honestly, Doug, I’m not  _ that _ petty. How big is your ego anyways? Thinking everything is some sort of attack on you personally?”

Lest sounded more frustrated than anything towards the end, but apparently his words were enough to get Doug to hesitate again. He stopped, considering Lest warily. “You’re full of it,” he concluded, before continuing on.

Lest huffed in clear frustration. “Is this about my cooking?” he posed, acting hurt and leaking only a little desperation.

“You know it’s not.”

“I’m actually a pretty decent cook, you know,” Lest continued as if he hadn’t heard Doug, “Making food for five people every night and all. I really am just trying to get rid of this before it goes bad.”

Doug pointedly ignored him, eyes set straight ahead.

Slowing a bit, a flash of annoyance bubbled up in Lest’s chest. He huffed, irritated. “Doug. I did not spend hours making this for you so that you could  _ ignore _ me.” There was no teasing to his words, just a tired firmness. The sudden shift in tone seemed to be enough to get Doug to turn back.

Gods, what was wrong with him? He hadn’t meant to sound so...desperate.

“Really?” Doug furrowed his brow, gears visibly turning, before an irritatingly dopey smile finally broke his face. “Wait,” Lest flinched as Doug approached him, now smug, “I thought you said this wasn’t about me. That I was being self-centered, or whatever.” The look on the dwarf’s face was frankly infuriating, made only more so when he reached out and patted Lest lightly on the head. Lest swatted the hand away grumpily.

“Aw, you know, I’m almost touched,” he continued, “Having the prince and princess both trying to force their cooking on me.” Lest’s gut twisted at the words. He hated being talked down to.

“Well, how could I not?” Lest hummed, biting back his own irritation, “I’ve never seen anyone suck up anything so desperately as you did that pudding. You’d have thought your survival depended on it: if I’d done nothing at all, I was worried you’d fall into withdrawal and I would be forced to watch you slowly wither away.”

Doug flushed, smugness giving way to a flared temper. “Listen, it wasn’t  _ that _ bad.”

“No?” Lest posed, tilting forward.

“A-and it was your own damn fault for walking in uninvited! You--you just caught me at a bad time, is all. I don’t even  _ like _ the stuff that much,” Doug added defensively.

“Coulda fooled me.”

“It’s just something I get when I’m feeling-- w-well I don’t even eat it that often. You’re just weird. And sadistic.”

Lest sighed. “Ah well. My mistake then,” he said, laying on the disappointment thick. “Since this has all been an embarrassing misunderstanding then, I guess I’ll just...throw this out. Such a waste.” He muttered the last part as if to himself, knowing full well Doug could hear him perfectly. Without hesitation, Lest popped the lid off the container, turning towards a hedge several paces away.

“Wait!”

“Hmm?” Lest did a poor job of hiding a small smile.

“Don’t just throw it into the bushes! Are you an idiot?” Doug spluttered. “It’ll, uh, attract...animals.”

Lest raised an eyebrow. “...animals?”

The dwarf shuffled his feet, eyes trained on the ground. His mouth set into a hard line. “Ok, alright, fine! I give. I’ll take the stupid pudding. But only since you were going to throw it out anyways.”

“Really?” Doug flashed an irritated look at Lest’s obviously pleased grin.

“I’ll take it for Blossom, alright?” He snapped. “I...can’t really cook, so since she’s gotten sick all the food’s sucked. She’ll probably appreciate the change.”

“Ah, so you think my cooking  _ doesn’t _ \--”

“Don’t read into it,” Doug spat, wrenching the dish from Lest as if it were goblin-spawn.

“Well, I’m glad I could help,” Lest smiled sweetly, patting Doug lightly on the shoulder. “Blossom, I mean.”

“Cut the crap,” Doug hissed, hurriedly walking back the way he’d come. Lest waved cheerily at Doug’s receding figure.

He’d just been about to take off himself -- he still had some work to get through with Frey this afternoon -- when he felt a hand land firmly on his shoulder. “Lest,” Forte nodded down at him.

He turned towards her, offering a smaller, more genuine grin. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Who were you waving to?” She asked, gaze flitting over to where Doug was just disappearing around a corner. Expression turning troubled, she looked back at Lest, then over to Doug once again.

She sighed, shaking her head. “Ah. I see.” Lest shot her a questioning look. “Not that he doesn’t deserve it, but please don’t give Doug too hard of a time, alright?” She continued, reaching to clap him on the shoulder again.

Lest shrugged, ducking out of Forte’s reach. “Me? Never. You should know me better now,” Lest said, beginning to walk backward in the direction of the castle. Forte crossed her arms, obviously unimpressed. “You don’t trust me? Ouch,” Lest deadpanned.

“Frankly,” Forte seemed to consider this a moment. “No. I don’t. I know what you’re like when you fixate on something, Lest. That poor boy,” the last part she mumbled quietly to herself.

“See you around, Forte,” Lest said resolutely, turning his back on her. It wasn’t long until he was back inside the castle, wandering down the long hallway that led from the dragon room back into his chambers.

_ That was a bit harsh _ .

Lest wrinkled his nose stubbornly. Since when had he ever taken anything  _ too far _ ? He knew how to wring a joke nearly dry, stopping just before it got to be too much. Teasing was only fun as long as he wasn’t making an ass of himself.

In fact, most of the time he got bored and moved on well before that point. Why should this be any different?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is absolutely one of those "pulling on their pigtails on the playground" situations. Also, Forte is absolutely set in Big Sister Mode 24/7, not just with Kiel.


	4. Chapter 4

“Hey, can you file these for me?” Frey appeared next to Lest, unloading another large pile of papers onto his already crammed desk. A groan hissed quietly through his teeth, but all this did was earn him a small scowl from the princess.

He sighed, resigned. “Yeah, yeah. Consider it taken care of,” he griped, making a big show of pulling the heavy papers towards him. He thumbed through the stack with some hesitation.

She softened, smiling gratefully. “Thanks,” she breathed. “Really. This last week has been so hectic, with the tourist season coming up, and all these new folks who decided late spring was the perfect time to move to the countryside. I just…” she took in a tight breath, releasing it slowly with some effort. “It’s just been a lot. Your help’s been great.”

After the events several years ago involving Selphia and the Sechs Empire, their little hamlet had fallen quickly into the public eye. And as of yet, their popularity with people not only in the capital but all over Norad had yet to wane. It supplied them with a steady influx of tourists, sure, but it also meant welcoming people who wanted to stay more permanently.

Which, regrettably, meant a lot more paperwork for Lest and Frey.

Lest fell forward on the desk, stretching his arms out in front of him as far as they could go: fingertips just barely brushing the edges of the table. “What good’s having a farm if we can’t even work it,” he sighed.

Frey, who had sat down at her workstation, didn’t look up from her own monstrous stack of forms. “Focus, Lest.” She adjusted her reading glasses so they sat further up the bridge of her nose. “Save it until this evening. Weren’t you just complaining about the heat this morning, anyways? It’ll cool down a bit after it’s dark.”

“Yeah,” he puffed out a gust of breath, leaning his cheek against the cool wood of the table. The heat had yet to penetrate the cold stone walls of the castle, but five minutes outside and he was already sweating.

Although frankly, he’d rather that over the intimidating amount of busy work Frey had saddled on him. If Lest knew being a co-prince would turn out to be this dull, he’d have chosen a different roof to fall through than a castle’s.

Lest wrinkled his nose. “Hey Frey,” he posed, still not lifting himself from the table.

“Mm?” She flipped a form over, writing something on the other side.

“You ever wonder what we were doing before we fell on Venti?” Lest asked the question casually, but he carefully studied his roommate’s reaction.

“Mm-mm,” she wrote something else down on the sheet.

He tilted his head towards the ceiling, staring at the loose patterns the flagstone made. “Like, do you ever wonder where we came from? We know that I had the rune sphere on me when we got pushed off that airship, so…we’re probably from the capitol, right? But then, Arthur would’ve recognized us, wouldn’t he?”

“I don’t know Lest,” she sighed, finally casting a furtive glance at him, “it’s a big city.”

“Yeah…” Lest rolled his tongue against the inside of his cheek, silence stretching between them as he lost himself in trying to remember something, anything, from their past lives. As so many times before, he could only draw up blanks. “So do you--”

Frey looked up sharply, removing her glasses and bringing a hand up to rub at her temple. “Lest, honestly, could you try staying focused for two seconds? Or if you’re not going to do your own work, at least don’t interrupt me so often? I’ve got my plate full as it is.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he nodded apologetically, pushing himself off the desk and stretching his arms above his head. “I’ll get back to it.”

“Can’t get ‘back to’ something you haven’t started,” she remarked cheekily.

“Yeah, got it. You’re a paperwork machine, you know that?” Frey didn’t respond, merely leaning across the table to tap her pen sharply on the stack of papers by Lest’s arm. “Right, right. I can take a hint.”

Relenting with a sigh at how boring the next few hours were destined to be, Lest grabbed the sheet off the top of the pile. A quick glance revealed it to be a housing registration form. Shuffling through the next few papers, he found those were the same. Not promising.

Two hours later -- though it really felt more like two days-- and he hadn’t even gotten halfway through the stack. Lest was practically falling off his chair at that point, eyes so droopy he wished for nothing more than Clorica’s inhuman ability to do work while asleep.

Yawning hugely, Lest leaned back, popping his arms over his head. He stood, chair scraping dully against the stone floor. “I’m gonna take five,” he muttered, head spinning from standing up too suddenly and eyes washed with black spots.

Frey, not turning up from her own work, muttered something noncommittal. He decided to take that as an affirmative: drifting out of the room, thoughts fuzzy.

The dragon room was as good a place as any to stretch his legs. Plus it got good light this time of day: maybe he could get in some reading. Although the thought of having to decipher any more thick passages of text, voluntarily or no, had Lest’s head aching. So maybe not.

But the closer he drew down the hall, the more heated the air around him became, until it was nearly sweltering. When he finally got to the dragon room, he could already feel a thin sheen of sweat beginning to form on the back of his neck. Lest was about to turn around and call it quits entirely, retreating back into the cool depths of the castle when a bright flash of red caught his eye.

Curiously, Lest slunk forward, excited to see that Doug had in fact just entered the vast chamber. Smirking, any traces of drowsiness filtered out of him as Lest turned to lean casually against one of the large columns circling the room. Doug had yet to notice him: walking straight past Lest towards the ornate platform at the center of the space.

He carried a small, paper-wrapped package in one hand.

“Whatcha got there?” Lest posed casually. He had to force down a laugh as Doug nearly jumped out of his skin, whirling sharply on Lest and nearly dropping the package onto the ground.

He fumbled it for a moment, releasing a sigh of relief once he’d gotten it sturdily back in his grip. He turned, staring daggers at Lest. “Hey man, don’t sneak up on me like that,” he shot, “It’s rude.”

Lest shrugged. “I did no such thing. I’ve been standing here this whole time. You walked right past me, actually.”

“Yeah, sure. I never saw you,” Doug said in bitter disbelief. “I swear, the two of you aren’t human.”

Lest grinned at that, pushing lightly off the column and half-skipping his way across the chamber towards Doug, much to the dwarf’s obvious annoyance. “You never know,” he put lightly, coming to a stop at the edge of the platform, “Maybe I had a great-great-uncle that was an elf or something.”

“Yeah, more like a goblin,” Doug scoffed.

“So harsh!” Lest pouted. “And here I am, just trying to start a nice conversation with my neighbor. What have I done to warrant such rudeness?”

“Plenty,” Doug shot under his breath.

Lest chuckled, clasping his hands behind his back. “Fair enough.” Humming, Lest skipped around behind Doug, appearing at his other side and nodding to the package “You never answered my question though. What is that?”

Doug flinched again. Lest grinned, happy with the knowledge that Doug seemed to spook easily.

He leveled Lest with a long, skeptic look, before finally relenting with a low sigh. “It’s...an offering,” he said simply. “I’m bringing it here for Blossom, since she’s, ya know…”

Lifting the package into both hands, Doug knelt to the ground, placing it before him.

Lest gave him a questioning look, before realizing Doug had led them to the center of the platform Ventuswill had once occupied. Something tight clenched in his stomach at the thought. Even back when she’d been alive, he’d somehow never stood up here before. It’d always seemed too...important.

With a jolt, Lest suddenly realized Doug had been talking through all this. He shook his head, trying to snap himself awake.

“I...I know it’s not much. And I seriously doubt she can even appreciate it, but well,” he continued. Lest nodded thoughtfully, like he’d been paying any attention. Whoops. “Granny always likes to leave something at least once or twice a week.”

As he talked, Doug undid the small bit of twine holding the paper together, unwrapping the package to reveal three crudely-shaped rice balls. “But since she’s not supposed to be leaving the house, I’m here instead.” Doug shrugged. “I don’t understand why we gotta leave  _ onigiri  _ though. Seriously, even if she does know we’re giving her stuff I don’t think she cares too much what we leave. Why not something that doesn’t taste so good, then? Like bread, or cake, I dunno. I think the dragon liked that sorta thing.”

“Pancakes,” Lest said suddenly, without thought.

“Sorry?” Doug sent him a puzzled look.

“You’re right. She liked baked stuff but...pancakes, specifically. I used to...make them for her. Quite a lot.”

Doug turned his attention back to the offering, tapping a finger thoughtfully against one knee. “Well, maybe I’ll have Granny send some of those to her next time instead.” He sighed, shaking his head woefully, “What a waste of good rice…”

Somewhat eager to change the subject, Lest moved forward to stand directly beside Doug, leering down at him. “So, you do like something other than bread pudding. I’d started getting worried you were depriving yourself, there.”

Doug sprung up, forcing Lest to skip backward to avoid being crashed into.

“Don’t even joke about that,” he started hotly, “You  _ know  _ nothing could ever rival my love for onigiri.”

Lest sighed, unimpressed, placing a hand on one hip. “You really only think with your stomach, don’t you? I mean I’m not even that surprised, honestly.”

“What’s  _ that _ supposed to mean?” Doug growled, lurching forward.

Lest smirked, happily noting he’d managed to strike a nerve. “All I’m saying,” he began innocently, “Is that I think there’s got to be a direct link from your brain to your digestive system. In fact, if we opened up your head I bet I’d just find one large grain of rice.”

Doug shook his head, confounded. “Man, there’s something wrong with you.”

“At least I’m not a hypocrite,” Lest scoffed lightly.

“The hell’d you just call me?” Doug shouted, hand darting forward to roughly grab the collar of Lest’s shirt. He gripped the fabric so hard, his knuckles turned white.

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you, while we’re on the subject,” Lest said around a broad, smug smile, “How’d you like the leftovers I gave you the other day? Too sweet? I tried a different recipe than I usually use for that sort of thing.”

Doug’s grip tightened, his face contorted into a firm frown. He was so close now, Lest could clearly see the swirling storm of grey churning angrily in his eyes. The intensity threw his concentration, enough for him to falter slightly, but only for a moment. “I’ll take it you weren’t a fan, then,” Lest tried casually.

Doug’s eyes darted across Lest’s face as the anger slowly drained from him. With a small grunt, he released Lest, sending him stumbling back a bit.

“Like I said, cabbage-head,” he began, “I gave it to Blossom. If you’re so interested in feedback, why don’t you go ask her?”

“Hmm you didn’t try  _ any _ of it?” Lest teased, moving in to close the space Doug had put between them. Irritation was written plain on Doug’s features, but he continued to poke the bear. “C’mon,” Lest trilled, “After all that fuss, the least you could do is try a little. I’m not asking for much.”

Doug didn’t respond, seeming suddenly tense.

“You know,” Lest said quietly, “I’ve still got quite a bit left in the fridge in my room. You’re welcome to it, if you’d like. I really did make too much.”

“As if,” Doug held his ground firmly, but seemed just a bit uneasy.

“Rude. Come on, it’s common decency to accept food from your host when you visit someone’s house.”

Doug blinked, bemused. “But...I’m not--”

“I’m right down this hall. Come on!” Without waiting for a response, Lest grabbed Doug firmly by the arm, pulling him off the platform and towards the hallway leading back to his and Frey’s chambers. “I know how much you live for the stuff. So if you aren’t even going to give mine a chance, you’ll end up hurting my feelings you know,” Lest continued, Doug in tow.

“Really. I don’t want any,” Doug spat. But other than that he didn’t offer much resistance as Lest pulled him along.

“I insist.”

“Gods you are  _ such _ \--wait, hold on a second Lest--”

“Stop complaining so much,” Lest said with a sigh.

“Seriously Lest--stop!”

“Lest!” The voice that sounded out was distant, not belonging to either of them. In the following silence, he could make out the distant sound of approaching footsteps. “You still in here? You didn’t skip out on me, right?”

Frey.

Lest could feel Doug stiffen, the arm wrapped in his going rigid. “Let go, man, seriously,” Doug muttered under his breath desperately. “C’mon.”

Shaking himself out of it, Lest realized he’d been gripping Doug’s arm a bit tighter than he’d meant to, releasing his vice hold and allowing the dwarf to finally yank himself free.

“Doug--” Lest started.

“I’ll see you around,” he said hurriedly, nearly tripping over twice in his rush to get out of the castle. He had just disappeared back into the dragon room as Frey rounded the corner of the hall. Her eyes zeroed in on Lest, who was still a bit zoned out.

“Lest! There you are. You know ‘taking a break’ and ‘ditching me to do all your work for you’ are two  _ extremely _ different things, right?” She huffed, a bit fussily. “You better not have been making up an excuse to go work the fields.”

“No…” Lest said quietly, letting his hands drop to his sides. He shot Frey an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I think I just lost track of the time a little. My bad. I wasn’t going to ditch you though, I swear.”

Frey propped one hand on her hip, giving him a quick once over. “Mmhmm,” she hummed, unimpressed.

“I wasn’t gonna! Really,” Lest muttered distractedly, staring at his feet.

Frey let out a small, uncertain noise, drawing his attention back to her, surprised at the look of concern on her face. “Hey, you feeling okay? You look a little flushed.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s...just getting too hot lately.” Lest had already skipped around Frey, beginning the trek back towards their room. “C’mon, let’s get back to work. Or don’t tell me you were somehow able to get through that whole mess of papers without me. Though I don’t think I’d be surprised.”

Frey lingered a moment, before following. “Gods I wish. No, there’s some complaint a tourist had with the staff at the flower shop that’s hanging me up. Illuminata tried to create a locked-room scenario for...I don’t even know, practice or something? Anyway, it’s been a huge mess.”

Lest began to zone out as Frey went into the finer details of Lumi’s recent antics as they sat back down at the desk. His eyes wandered distractedly to his hands as she continued to talk, folded loosely in front of him.

He hadn’t known Blossom still left offerings for Venti. He’d never seen anyone leave food before, although to be fair he didn’t have many reasons to go into that room anymore. Still, he wondered what happened to all of it. Maybe Volcannon dumped it somewhere…

Sighing, Lest picked up the next paper in the stack, absent-mindedly glancing through it as Frey kept going on about her flower shop situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thing I've always wondered is if there's any boring paperwork/bureaucracy stuff Lest and Frey had to do when they took over Arthur's job. Since they are technically acting as the mayor of Selphia? Maybe Arthur would do it anyway, since he seems to like that sort of thing.


	5. Chapter 5

It had been a few days since Lest had seen Doug. Even during the hour he closed up for lunch, the dwarf seemed to steer clear of the plaza (and by extension the castle) altogether. Curious, he’d searched around a bit for Doug during one such lunch break, only to find the paths in town clear of short-fused redheads.

If Lest didn’t know any better, he’d think Doug was avoiding him  _ on purpose _ or something.

Which wasn’t going to do at all.

Frey’d had him filing papers over the better part of the last several days, and Lest desperately needed an entertaining distraction. Or at least someone to talk to who wasn’t constantly sending him disapproving looks for skipping out on busywork.

When Lest had finally managed to put a dent in his work enough for Frey to grant him a slightly longer break, he’d gone immediately to the small kitchenette they’d stuffed into the corner of the main chamber. Cracking open the fridge, Lest set about filling a small wicker basket with pudding cups.

Sighing, he scooped some off the middle shelf, nudging aside a bit of cabbage to do so. They took up most of the shelf, and then some: spilling out into the sides of the door. Gods, there was still so much left.

Alright, admittedly, he may have gone a bit overboard with these things. True to what he’d told Doug, he really had expected at least  _ some _ of them to go in his impromptu “bake sale”, but had no such luck.

Ah well, at least he had someone to dump it all on, willing or no.

“I’m headed to the general store, need anything?” Lest called behind him. It took a Frey a full minute to look up, only for her to quickly shake her head ‘no’ and turn back to her papers.

“Kay,” he muttered, more to himself, before carefully pushing out the door.

The overfull basket shuffled and clinked precariously at his side, and Lest ended up needing to walk rather slowly to assure nothing fell out. He’d crammed as much as he could in here, but there was still quite a bit left...really, what was he supposed to do with all of them?

In all likelihood he’d end up throwing out most of it regrettably, should it end up going bad in the fridge or if he got bored of dumping it on Doug. Lest hummed thoughtfully. Maybe he could just cram it all in a large box and leave it on the store’s doorstep for Doug to find.

That still seemed like a lot of wasted pudding though, if he wasn’t even going to bother sticking around to see the hilarity of Doug finding dozens of pudding cups outside the store.

Hmm...maybe one of the butlers had a taste for bread pudding.

Stopping in front of the general store, Lest propped the basket against his hip as he reached out for the handle when the door opened in front of him unexpectedly. He had to jump back out of the way, nearly tripping backward on a bench.

Doug emerged a moment later, turning down the path immediately and apparently missing Lest entirely. He seemed to be heading straight in the direction of Porcoline’s.

Seeing an obvious opportunity with how skittish Doug had proven to be, Lest snuck forward silently, having to make a conscious effort to keep the pudding cups from clacking together too noisily. He’d managed to get up right behind Doug just as he’d reached the stairs, lunging forward suddenly to latch onto him from behind.

He’d expected some hilarious jumping and flustering, or even a small scream perhaps. But what Lest had  _ not _ been expecting was for Doug to whip around quickly under Lest’s arms, barely giving him enough time to jump out of the way of a knee to the stomach.

Skittering back, Lest fought to regain his balance after the sudden attack, some of the pudding cups clattering to the stone path.

“Woah there, settle down,” Lest panted with his hands held up in front of him, his heart still doing mini somersaults from the sudden adrenaline boost.

“Ah, sorry,” Doug gasped, looking just as wound up as Lest felt. “You startled me. Don’t...don’t sneak up on me like that, ever, got it?”

“Well, I can see that now,” Lest said simply.

Drawing in a long, slow breath, Doug finally turned his attention fully on Lest, giving him a quick once over. His eyes landed resolutely on the basket tucked around his arm. “Alright Lest, what do you need?” he said with a perfect mix of trepidation and mild concern.

Lest shook his head, letting out a faux-pained sigh in a rush of air. Truth be told, he was still a bit out of it for nearly having the wind knocked out of him. “Come on now, no need to look so upset. I only just got here, and you’re already making assumptions. I just thought I’d stop by and bring you some more of,” Lest leaned in dramatically, muttering in a stage whisper, “You know what.

“You didn’t get a chance to try any last time, since you ran off before I got the chance to share,” Lest finished with a smile.

Doug’s eyes narrowed, flicking briefly to the pudding cups that had fallen to the ground. Then back to Lest. “Fine,” he hissed, snatching the basket from Lest. “For Blossom, got it?”

Lest grinned. He could look as huffy and irritated as he wanted, Lest didn’t miss the way Doug’s ears were turning a deep scarlet. “I’m happy to help an addiction--ah, I mean a dilemma,” Lest supplied smugly.

Doug had started up the stairs already, pouting into the basket he held in a vice grip. “Oh!” Lest called suddenly, causing Doug to freeze halfway up, looking back skeptically. “Those are some impressive reflexes, by the way.”

It wasn’t a lie: Lest had very nearly gotten kneed in the stomach, and with how often he was out fighting monsters, that really was saying something.

Doug’s expression turned thoughtful, as he scratched the back of his head a bit awkwardly. “Yeah, well...you know. When you’ve worked undercover most of your life, they’re good to have.”

The bluntness of the answer caught Lest off guard a bit, so he remained silent as Doug continued up the steps and out of sight.

\--

Alright, so Doug might be actively avoiding him. But Lest had a fridge full of pudding and nothing better to do than sit behind a desk signing forms.

And since it was all going to spoil soon, Lest decided a more active approach may be necessary.

The following day, Lest managed to sneak past Frey around the time Doug should have been closing up the store for the afternoon. Luckily, he’d caught him just as he’d been on the way to Porco’s (apparently a habit of his), making certain to alert Doug of his presence this time (for the sake of his internals).

He’d managed to shove the pudding cups into Doug’s unwilling arms and sneak back into the castle before Frey noticed he was missing.

Lest repeated the same the next few days as well, although the last had been a holiday so he’d needed to do some searching before finally finding Doug lounging in front of the inn.

And despite Lest’s impromptu visits becoming less of a surprise and more of a pattern, Doug’s reaction was still just as flustered and indignant as it always had been. His ears would redden, he’d somehow manage to make a pout look angry, and then he’d throw a fit as he would end up accepting Lest’s offering regardless.

Honestly, he really did act just like a little kid.

So each time, Lest walked away equally satisfied with the frankly unsettling amount of time he’d been pouring into this prank. By some miracle, the ridiculous number of puddings in the fridge had been slowly shrinking, and he’d actually entertained the thought of making more the other day. Which was a bit ridiculous: Blossom and Doug had to be getting sick of his treats by now.

And more than that, Lest’s first foray into extreme baking had cost him a decent amount of eggs, and they only had so many cluckadoodles.

\--

The sun was a bit too bright for Lest’s liking. It’s near-blinding light and the intense heat that accompanied it confronted him with the now unavoidable fact that summer was officially underway.

He lifted a hand over his eyes to shield them, squinting up at the bright blue sky. Lest was making his way over to the general store, as he’d been doing for nearly a week now, so it was barely past noon, and yet it was so hot he was finding it hard to breathe.

Hopefully, the heatwave would pass sooner than later. Lest much preferred the cold. Or in this case, any weather that wasn’t sweltering.

Securing the basket under one arm (he’d really need to start collecting the empty containers from Doug), Lest was surprised when he rounded the corner to find not Doug, but Blossom, sitting on a bench outside the store.

Her eyes were closed lightly, head tilted up to catch the dapples of sunlight that fell through the trees and onto her face. She seemed entirely unbothered by the heat: her dusty pink hair pushing lightly at her face in the slight breeze.

Lest smiled softly, sitting down next to Blossom and pulling the basket onto his lap. She didn’t acknowledge him right away, continuing to sit complacently, but after a moment she turned to Lest with a warm smile of her own.

“Hey Blossom, how are you?” Lest wanted to ask how she was feeling, remembering Nancy had mentioned her falling ill, but somehow he felt like she might not appreciate him bringing up her health.

“I’m doing fine. Thank you for asking,” she replied quietly, “Just out getting some fresh air. The weather is lovely today.”

If by ‘lovely’ she meant that just sitting here a moment had Lest thinking he might melt into the bench, then absolutely. “That’s true,” he said instead. “Still, I’ve never been a fan of the summer.”

“I can imagine,” Blossom remarked with a small grin, “You don’t seem the type.”

“Too hot,” Lest shrugged.

She chuckled. “Surely, it’s not all bad. What about the Firefly Festival? Or the harvest festival at the end of the season. You and Frey always seem so busy around this time of year.”

“That is also true,” Lest sighed with a withering shrug. Gods, the harvest was going to  _ suck _ this year, especially if they got hit with another heatwave like this. And he’d completely forgotten about the Firefly Festival. Not that he’d ever paid much attention to it in the past.

“Anyway,” Lest began, turning so he was facing Blossom, “You wouldn’t happen to know where I could find Doug, would you?”

She blinked slowly, turning her head back towards the canopy of leaves above them. Finally, she shook her head. “I’m sorry to disappoint you Lest, but he just left. I’ll have to take responsibility for that: I had him go run a small errand for me.” She shook her head, a strained expression crossing her face. “That boy...he was so wound up earlier for some reason. I figured I had better give him an outlet for all that energy or he might have ended up breaking something….you know how that child is.”

“Yeah,” Lest smiled, “I do.”

“Why, did you need him for something?” Blossom squinted back at Lest, “Has he been causing trouble again?”

“Oh, no no, nothing like that,” Lest assured kindly. “I just wanted to drop these off.” He held up the basket, offering it to Blossom when she sent him a curious look.

“What is this?” She said expectantly, opening the top of the basket with a gentle curiosity. As she slowly scanned the contents, a smile broke out across her face. “Oh, aren’t you just the sweetest boy, making us all these goodies. How thoughtful of you.” Blossom patted Lest on the shoulder, and he couldn’t help but smile, feeling lighter. Blossom seemed to have that effect on people, she was just so naturally warm.

“Really, this is very kind of you,” she continued, “But I’m afraid I’ll have to hold off on these until I’m doing better.” She sighed, long and melancholic. “I’ve been just a bit under the weather recently, and sugar tends to do more harm than good to my system when I’m like this. I’m sure Doug will enjoy these, though.”

Lest watched Blossom replace the lid, mouth pursed in confusion. “Really,” he began slowly. Because from what it sounded like, not only was she unaware that he’d been supplying her household with a steady flow of puddings the last week, but it seemed she couldn’t even eat them to begin with.

Lest smile edged from gentle to sly. “I’m sorry, if I’d known, I’d have made something else,” he amended.

“Oh, and homemade as well?” Blossom sighed. “A pity. I’ll just have to bother you for some more when I’m feeling better, won’t I?”

“You’re more than welcome to, I’d be happy to bake for you and Doug any time,” Lest rolled forward onto his feet. “Well, I’d better get back before Frey misses me too much. Although, ah, I’m so sorry but where did you say Doug was again?” He coughed. “I just wanted to let him know I dropped these off.”

Blossom waved him off, resituating the basket in her lap. “Don’t trouble yourself, I’ll tell him when he gets back.” She paused, thoughtful for a moment. “Though if you’re set on telling him yourself, I sent him over to Jones and Nancy’s.”

“Fantastic. Thank you, Blossom,” Lest waved, already making his way down the path.

He’d managed to make it all of several paces before a broad, smug grin took hold of his face.

There wasn’t a chance Doug would risk feeding Blossom something that might mess up her system. Which meant he had run out of excuses.

\--

Lest jogged up to the clinic just as Doug was leaving: headed in the direction of the inn. So he was still taking the long way around to avoid the castle, then. It was so pointless, it was almost endearing.

“Where you going, Doug?” Lest drawled, appearing suddenly at his shoulder, making sure to put himself carefully out of arm’s reach. Doug flinched, but thankfully didn’t try and do anything stupid like smack Lest this time.

Doug paused at the bottom of the stairs up, backing up a step until his back hit the stone railing. His expression wrinkled. “I don’t like the look on your face.”

“Rude,” Lest hummed. “Anyways, let’s not beat around the bush then. So! I was just talking with Blossom.”

“Oh, gods, what’d you say to her,” Doug visibly paled, slouching back apprehensively.

Lest shook his head lightly, knocking his bangs loose so they fell in front of his eyes. He blew them out of the way with a small huff. “It’s not what I said, but what  _ she _ told  _ me _ . She totally ratted you out, man.”

This had Doug going from pale to green in a matter of seconds, and he leaned back on the railing heavily, using it as a support. “What did she say,” he mumbled numbly, looking rather alarmed.

“You know it was the funniest thing,” Lest began brightly, “I’d just gone over to bring you your fix--”

“Don’t call it that,” Doug snapped.

“Like I’ve been doing,” Lest ignored him, “but I ended up running into Blossom outside instead. We had a nice conversation -- your grandmother’s a very pleasant person by the way--”

“She’s not my--”

“Anyway, we were just chatting while I dropped off another generous donation of my baked goods when, to my complete surprise, she mentions that she can’t have sugar. In fact,” Lest tapped his chin thoughtfully with one finger, “She seemed surprised to see me delivering sweets at all.

“So,” he skipped forward, closing the distance between them. “You’ve been lying to me, haven’t you?”

Doug appeared speechless, flapping his mouth defensively as he fumed, ears going that wonderful shade of scarlet that meant he was getting riled up. Lest couldn’t contain the bubbly sense of satisfaction that rose in his chest at the sight, emerging as a grin on his face as he watched Doug struggle for words.

“You know, I sort of suspected as much,” Lest filled in for him, leaning forward just a bit, “You aren’t very subtle.”

“I--” Doug scrambled for words, mixed anger and confusion at the situation flashing across his expression.

“Although I can say, I’m surprised you’ve been finishing all that by yourself,” Lest mused. “I’d thought you might have been at least giving  _ something _ to Blossom. Hm...if I’d known, maybe I’d have thrown in something milder as well, so you could share.”

Satisfied with the pink that had spread to Doug’s cheeks as well, Lest angled back on his heel with a grin, admittedly eager to see the results of the in-depth teasing he’d been conducting.

“Lest?”

Doug had just opened his mouth to respond, no doubt to say something equal parts petty and entertaining, when he was cut off by Arthur’s voice above them. They both turned to look at the top of the stairs, where he stood a bit awkwardly, hands turning a small notebook almost anxiously.

Letting out a long, resigned sigh, Lest eventually managed to pull away from Doug. “Hello, Arthur,” he smiled weakly.

“Apologies, but might I ask for a moment of your time? There was something I’d needed to discuss with you,” Arthur nodded solemnly at Lest. After a moment, it became apparent he wasn’t planning on coming down to him. Lest let out another sigh.

“Give me a moment,” Lest said casually, turning his back on Doug as he lightly skipped up the steps towards the restless prince.

“Alright, here I am. What’d you want to talk about?” Lest posed, propping a hand against one hip.

Arthur’s brows knit together, his eyes cloudy, but he smiled nonetheless. It looked a bit strained, and it wrinkled his eyes in a way that accentuated the already pronounced bags that hung heavy under them.

“Hey, is everything alright?” Lest continued, with a bit more worry.

“Yes. Yes, I’m quite fine. Just a bit tired, is all,” and Arthur sounded it.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” Lest remarked with thinly veiled sarcasm. Then, with a bit more genuine concern, “How many all-nighters has it been, then?”

Arthur chuckled. “More than I usually entertain.” Which wasn’t a real answer, but Lest wasn’t about to press the matter further. “Either way, let’s move on from my sleeping habits. I had something I wanted to talk with you about--ah, as the operating prince of Selphia. I had stopped by the castle earlier, but you weren’t in. Frey said I might find you wandering around.”

Lest nodded, now serious. “Well, I’m all ears. … is there some sort of problem?”

“No, nothing like that. I’d merely wanted to go over some details of the preparations for this year’s Firefly Festival. Normally, I’d have left you two alone to handle things how you saw fit, but this year two of my brothers have decided to travel down from the capitol to attend. And I don’t think I need to tell you that means certain...extra measures will need to be adhered to, seeing as we’ll be entertaining royalty.”

Lest nodded slowly, “Yeah, makes sense...though if you don’t mind me asking, why do we have to do things differently? Aren’t you a prince of Norad too?”

Arthur chuckled, and Lest didn’t miss the small bitter note in it. “On paper, yes. But being as young as I am, I’m just about as important as any other noble. I don’t take that lightly, don’t get me wrong, but I merely mean that is not the case for my brothers. Seeing as they are both second and third in line for the throne after my eldest.”

“I’m guessing that’s a big deal then?” Lest ventured.

“Very. So I’m helping oversee the planning of the festival myself.”

“Right, right…” Lest chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, “But that’s coming up pretty soon, isn’t it? Shouldn’t we have started a while ago, if it’s that important? Or--oh! Have you told Frey any of this yet? She’ll probably want to get an early start.”

“Well, actually, about that,” Arthur shuffled the notepad again, twirling it in his fingers as he spoke, “I’ve been in contact with Frey regarding the matter for a while now, and she’s already begun her own preparations. I’d meant to speak with you as well but...you haven’t been in the last few times I visited the castle.

“Apologies for keeping you out of the loop,” he continued lightly, “But Frey can fill you in on the details of what we’ve managed to accomplish so far, as well as arrangements moving forward.”

After a moment, Lest nodded, a bit too sharply. “Got it,” he said, “I hope you can count on us, Arthur.”

“I’m sure I can,” his responding smile looked a little less tired this time.

“Seriously though, you should really get some sleep,” Lest sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Don’t make me snitch on you to Meg.”

“I will...try,” he relented finally. “Well, I’ll be seeing you. Good luck with the preparations.”

Lest nodded, waving after Arthur as he left, “Yeah, see you.”

When he’d rounded the corner, walking out of sight, Lest released a long breath, dropping his posture into a slouch. He ran a hand through his hair, letting it rest at the back of his neck.

Frey hadn’t mentioned any of this to him.

With Arthur, he supposed he understood. Perhaps he’d just had the bad luck of only stopping by when Lest was out bugging Doug or ditching to work in the fields but...shouldn’t the  _ co _ -princess have said something by now?

Now, the sudden mountain of busywork that had seemed to come out of nowhere was beginning to make more sense.

If the heirs to the Norad throne were stopping by, even for a brief visit, it made sense she’d want to get all their papers in order beforehand.

He wanted to say it didn’t bother him. But Lest was finding it hard to ignore the tight knot that had settled in his stomach. He hated being left out of the loop.

Turning to climb back down the stairs, Lest startled out of his thoughts at the sight of Doug still standing awkwardly at the bottom, leaning against the railing and staring at his shoes.

Curious, Lest took the stairs down slowly. “Hey,” he said as he approached Doug.

“Hey,” he looked up at Lest, any traces of his previous exasperation gone. Pity.

“You’re still here?” Lest asked curiously.

“O-oh, uh, yeah. Sorry. I was doing my best not to eavesdrop, I swear, I’m not that kinda guy,” Doug added defensively, “But I mean, we’d sort of been talking before, so…” instead of finishing the thought, Doug just shrugged, eyes flitting to the ground.

_ It was less talking and more me giving you a hard time, _ Lest thought bitterly to himself. A twinge of something sharp tugged deep inside his chest accompanying the thought.

“No, no it’s fine I just...thought you’d have left,” Lest shrugged.

“Well…” Doug’s expression furrowed, “Anyways, what’d four-eyes want with you?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he remarked simply, “Work stuff. Actually, I probably should be heading back. Apparently, I’ve got a lot more work the next couple weeks than I’d thought. Sorry...for taking off after you were standing around waiting for me for so long.”

“No worries. Not like I had anywhere better to be.” He shrugged.

“Well, uhm see you around,” Lest called, turning to leave.

“Sure.”

He’d made it several paces, before Doug’s voice piped up behind him again, “Actually, Lest, um…”

He stopped, turning a bit expectantly, but Doug was looking away, shuffling his feet.

“Yeah?”

Doug seemed to consider Lest a moment, before shaking his head. “Sorry, sorry nevermind it’s not important. Don’t want to keep you from whatever work glasses gave you.”

“...alright then,” Lest said finally. He wasn’t stopped again as he made his way back to the castle, his mind already spinning with the amount of work Arthur had just thrown at him.


	6. Chapter 6

Porcoline’s restaurant was packed, but that wasn’t particularly abnormal for the time of day. Lest usually tried to avoid the lunchtime crowd, but Frey had insisted they go now. That it’d been too long since they’d gotten out of the castle, and that she had work later that afternoon. Or something.

Lest was still a bit bitter about the whole Firefly Festival thing (she hadn’t even bothered giving him a good excuse when he’d asked), but not enough he was going to turn down an invitation to do something together.

“So,” she said between mouthfuls of the half-eaten curry rice that sat between them, “Where do you think we should plant that corn seed? It’ll have to be this evening, to make sure it’s ready for harvest before the end of the season and all.”

Lest shrugged, twirling his spoon around the edge of the plate, swishing about a bit of carrot. “Dunno. How about the west field? It’s got the right light for corn.”

Frey sighed, taking another bite. She chewed thoughtfully, swallowing lightly before speaking again. “That’s true. But corn is a generally robust crop, and we’ve got plenty of other finicky veggies we could use the space for.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Plus, it’s good on the soil. Remember those strawberries we planted last spring? I was thinking of putting it there, to help give the soil a bit of a break before the fall…”

Frey continued to go on about the pros and cons of where to plant the corn seed, but Lest found he was having a hard time paying any attention.

His eyes were instead trained unwaveringly on the shock of red hair seated on the other end of the restaurant from them. Lest made sure to mumble out a few ‘okays’ and nod his head at the appropriate times, hoping to at least provide the illusion of interest.

He couldn’t see Doug very well from here, but he noticed the occasional bob of his head up into his line of sight, lighting up like a signal across the tables and townsfolk that occupied the space between them. He tapped his fork restlessly on the edge of the plate.

Frey snapped suddenly in front of Lest’s face, abruptly drawing him out of his staring.

“Hey, Lest, my eyes are over here,” she said, a bit miffed.

Finally breaking away, he blinked hazily over to Frey.

She sighed. “Lest, are you feeling alright? You look kind of flushed, and you were just sort of staring off into space there.”

Lest shook his head, “No I was...I’m fine.”

Frey raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Sure. look, I know when I’m being ignored,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “What has you so interested anyway?” With a slight pout, Frey glanced over to where Lest had been staring so intently.

At the same moment her eyes landed on the table where Doug had been sitting, a disgruntled cry sounded from the other end of the restaurant.

Frey looked back at him sharply, “Lest, what the hell did you do.”

Lest couldn’t help a small, only a half-sheepish, grin. “Now, how could I possibly have anything to do with that. I’ve been sitting in front of you for almost an hour now.”

In fact, he did actually have a pretty good idea of what was going on, but he wasn’t about to tell Frey that just yet.

Frey let out a low noise of frustration, “I don’t know! But--”

She didn’t get a chance to finish the thought, interrupted by the sounds of arguing that flared across the room towards them, coming from Doug’s table.

Doug, completely red in the face, had risen from his seat to glare up at Dylas. Who, consequently, had just finished placing a large order of entirely bread-related dishes on the table. Filled with giddy anticipation, Lest had to bite down on his lower lip to keep from snickering.

“What the hell is all this?” Doug demanded brazenly, getting in Dylas’s space. Pony boy had been a key part of this whole scheme: nothing got Doug to lose it so quickly as anything involving Dylas, and Lest knew it.

“I don’t know!” Dylas shot back, crossing his arms and staring at Doug down his nose. “You’re the one who put the order in for all this, I’m just doing my job.”

“Doing it wrong, obviously! Use your brain, carrot head, you think I’d order all this shit? Bread is evil, man, you know that. Augh, I  _ know _ you’re just messing with me now!”

“I told you, I’m not! Like I’d put in the effort to carry all this over just to piss you off, you bigheaded dwarf.”

“Well,  _ I _ never asked for it.”

“Well, then  _ someone _ , did,” Dylas countered, mocking the tone Doug had used.

Lest couldn’t take it anymore: and like a damn bursting, he was suddenly launched into peels of laughter that shook his shoulders and reverberated far too loudly in the silent room (minus two meatheads).

A set of grey and lilac eyes were on him immediately: the latter with confusion and the former with a look of clarity that devolved quickly into intense irritation.

“Lest--gods, of course, it was you,” Doug threw up his hands, exasperated and quickly working himself up. “Who else? You know what, I’m not even surprised anymore,” he half-shouted bitterly.

“Oh come on, Doug, you make it  _ too easy _ . Really, it’s your own fault you’re so gullible,” Lest said around another giggle. “I mean really, do you seriously hate bread that much? Enough to keep making these huge scenes in public?”

Doug met him with a look of utter disbelief. “Really, you think  _ I’m _ the one making a scene?”

“You’re the only one of us that’s yelling,” Lest remarked sweetly. “Right?” He looked down at Frey with a half-grin, but any further retorts sharply died in his throat.

Frey looked extremely uncomfortable: her shoulders hunched around her ears and a hand lifted to her face, covering a light blush. “Lest,” she said quietly, her tone serious and clearly embarrassed. “That’s enough,” Her words were a hush, delivering with the same firmness one might use to scold a child.

Lest blinked, confused, and completely thrown off as he felt a flare of anger itch up his chest. She was treating him like a kid now? Like the bad guy in this? He was only doing  _ any _ of this to get back at Doug for being such a jackass to her! Couldn’t she see that? And yet she had the nerve to...to, what, act like she was the only adult in this?

So absorbed was he in his (justifiably) offended line of thinking, Lest didn’t even notice Doug approach their table until he seemed to materialize right next to him. He startled when a hand was suddenly laid on his shoulder, looking up into disapproving grey eyes.

The rest of the restaurant had long since gone back to their own meals and conversations, filling the room with a chipper din, but Frey remained silent and motionless as Doug awkwardly cleared his throat.

“C’mon Lest, I think we gotta talk,” Doug muttered, not quite meeting his eyes.

Without another word, Lest stood motionlessly, following Doug as he led them through the side door into Arthur’s study. He was so lost in his own baffled irritation, Lest didn’t fight it as he was led obediently away.

Frey didn’t even watch as they left the room.

Once Lest was through, Doug moved around him to close the door, abruptly shutting out the sounds of the restaurant to a barely audible murmur. They were the only ones in the room: which sat clear and empty, almost eerie in the absence of a normally bustling Arthur.

“Alright man, seriously, what’s your deal?” Doug demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. His brashness shattered the silence instantly. The combination of it all, mixed with some new trepidation and unsureness, made Lest feel just a bit out of place.

Which was ridiculous, because he was obviously in the right here.

Scoffing, Lest angled his head up in a way that might have been seen as aloof. “Listen, _man_ , you were the one that started all this. I don’t know what you’re getting after me for. If you hadn’t acted like such a jerk to Frey--”

“Yeah. To  _ Frey _ ,” Doug annunciated like Lest was missing something obvious, “So don’t you think that sorta thing should’ve stayed between the two of us?”

“Well, I just,” Lest stumbled, grasping at straws, “She’s too nice to say anything, you should know that. I’m--I’ve been trying to stand up for her.”

“Really? You’re trying to  _ help _ her? Like back there, when you embarrassed yourself in front of half the town? She looked  _ mortified _ . Even I’m not dense enough to miss that.”

“I--” Lest began defensively.

“Gods just--when’s it gonna stop?” Doug cut him off, exasperated.

Lest blinked. “What?”

“The pranks - if you can call it that anymore - the teasing, the scaring the crap out of me every day at lunch, all of it!” Doug shook his head, “Honestly, I’m starting to think you have some personal grudge you’re working through, at this point.”

“I  _ told you _ , hot head, it’s for--”

“Frey?” Doug scoffed, “Sure it is. It’s been two weeks. Leave what happened in the past alone already, would you? This has to stop eventually.”

“I’m doing this for Frey,” Lest repeated, like a broken record. The excuse even sounded weak to his own ears.

Doug shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Really? Cause she didn’t seem to appreciate any of that back there, man.”

He sighed, letting his arms drop so he could run a hand through his hair, upsetting it into sticking up at odd angles. When his eyes set to rest on Lest again they were filled with something other than anger though. Something more akin to pity.

A shot of righteous irritation flashed through Lest at the expression, yet no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t manage to rebuke it.

“Look, I get it,” he started slowly, leveling Lest with an earnest look, “I screwed things up. A lot. And, ugh, that’s no excuse, but whatever happened back there was a total knee-jerk reaction. And well, people are allowed to mess up sometimes, alright?

“I’m sorry,” Doug said suddenly, “For screwing things up so badly with Frey. Seriously. But I’ve been...thinking.”

“That’s dangerous,” Lest commented, more on impulse than anything.

“I’ve been  _ thinking _ ,” Doug repeated, shooting Lest an irritated look, “About what you said to me that night. About….ya know. It being a love confession, or whatever.” His hand dropped from his head suddenly, and Lest didn’t miss the way his cheeks heated to a dim pink.

For some reason, it made something bitter churn jaggedly in the pit of his stomach.

“You know, I think I sorta knew at the time too,” Doug shook his head, eyes set firmly on the ground, “But I wouldn’t admit it to myself. I don’t know why I was so shocked, anyway. She’s been acting...weird around me lately.” He released a long breath sharply through his nose. “But I didn’t. And I guess I just freaked out? Said some dumb stuff in the heat of the moment that ended up hurting her.”

He stared up at Lest suddenly, the storm in his eyes broiling intensely. “It wasn’t cool of me, and I’m sorry.”

Lest was stunned speechless, no words coming to him in the face of such a genuine apology. Especially….especially after pulling what was admittedly an over the top prank. He tried coming up with some snide remark, some retort, but nothing came out of his mouth when he opened it. Which was not usual. Sarcasm wasn’t something that evaded Lest most days.

Instead, he stood there like a dying fish, flapping his mouth soundlessly as Doug continued to stare between him and the floor. The air between them had become suddenly tense in the silence, running thick and heavy through his lungs as Lest took in shallow breaths. It was suddenly hard to breathe.

What was he supposed to say to that? To Doug telling him off, telling him he’d gone too far and…

At that moment, the door behind Doug blessedly decided to fling open, letting in dull chatter and leading the way for Dylas to barge into the study, a shit-eating grin decorating his face. Which, on any other day, would have made Lest apprehensive at best. But today it was such a relief from the awkward silence, he nearly smiled back.

“Hey you two,” Dylas crooned sweetly. And then Lest really did crack a small smile, as Doug’s expression went from serious to bitterly angry in record time. “What’re you up to? You both ran off together so quickly.”

“Talking, asshole,” Doug shot back. “None of your business, get out!”

Dylas smirked. “Oh sorry,” he cooed, pretending to turn to leave, “Didn’t mean to interrupt anything. I’ll leave you two to get back to it, then.”

Despite the obvious teasing, Doug’s face had turned tomato-red at the implications of Dylas’s smug remarks. Lest could even feel a bit of heat rise to his own face as well.

“Hold on a second!” Any bashfulness in Doug was quickly replaced by searing anger, and he whirled on Dylas. “Where do you think you’re going? And what the hell did you mean by that, manure brain?” Doug demanded.

“Don’t call me that,” Dylas shot with a frown, his own temper beginning to flare. “I was sent in here cause you two were taking so damn long, wanted to make sure you hadn’t strangled each other to death or something. Seriously, what  _ were _ you doing in here?” A smug grin broke out across his face. “What, swapping tips for how to grab stuff off the top shelf?”

“Hey, I’m average height,” Lest spluttered defensively around Doug, his own integrity now also being attacked.

“Still shorter than the  _ dwarf _ ,” Dylas countered, before placing his hands on his hips, turning his attention back to Doug.

This seemed to be the last straw, and the rest of Doug’s previous composure flew out the window as he nearly spat in Dylas’s face. “Not all dwarves are short, idiot! They’re just as tall as humans. Sometimes taller! Bado lives right down the street from you, dumbass, don’t be stupid!” He scoffed, folding his arms with a sudden impishness. “Although I guess I shouldn’t expect a  _ farm animal  _ to understand the intricacies of civilized society.”

“What the hell did you just call me, shortie?”

“What did you just say to me? Are you seriously that dense? What did I  _ just _ say?”

As they continued to bicker back and forth, Lest was left on his own in the back for the most part. He still couldn’t shake the heavy feeling that had settled in him, put there by Doug’s words.

Lest couldn’t tell exactly what it was, but for some reason it made him feel a bit ill. It rolled across him uncomfortably like waves of nausea, worsening anytime he happened to glance back up at the dwarf.

His chest felt tight.

Having essentially disappeared into the background in the face of these two’s legendary arguing, Lest used the easy cover to run out the back, avoiding finishing his conversation with Doug entirely.

\--

By the time Lest made his way back to the main part of the restaurant, their table was already clear and Frey was nowhere to be seen. Still feeling oddly hollow from his confrontation with Doug, Lest trudged back to the castle on his own. The air seemed heavy as he drew it in, the humidity doing nothing to quell the dull ache in his chest.

He wasn’t looking forward to the inevitably difficult conversation Frey was no doubt preparing to launch on him once he got back, the second one he’d have to endure that day.

This whole thing had, officially, become far more of a hassle than it was worth.

And, predictably, the second Lest was through the door he caught sight of Frey leaning against the wall just beside it: arms crossed tightly over her chest and expression almost accusing. Lest sighed, taking his time in letting the door click shut behind him, and preparing for whatever mental beating she had in store for him ‘embarrassing’ her or whatever.

Trying to appear casual, he finally turned to Frey. “Hey princess, what’s up?”

Frey looked unamused. “What was all that about?” she demanded harshly, hard expression not giving Lest an inch of room to explain himself.

He deflated a bit, shrugging loosely. “Dunno what you’re talking about.” Not liking how her eyes were boring into him, Lest made his way further into the room, towards the small kitchen that sat in the corner.

He cracked the fridge open, uninterestedly pushing through containers of produce. He’d been saving a bottle of strawberry milk somewhere in here, gods knew he needed it now than ever.

Frey appeared at his side, somehow looking more frustrated than before. Lest sighed. 

“Obviously, you do!” She pressed.

“Nah,” he said simply, brow furrowing as he began moving food around on a lower shelf. Where had that milk gone?

Frey let out a loud noise of frustration, “Ugh, Lest, why do you always have to make things so difficult,” she huffed irritably.

Lest didn’t respond, absentmindedly chipping his thumb against the edge of the fridge as he continued to mindlessly push raw ingredients around.

“And will you stop acting like a child for one second, and  _ talk _ to me? Ignoring me isn’t going to make this conversation go away!” She warned. Lest knew she was right. It still didn’t help how little he wanted to be talking about this right now. Hadn’t he already gotten his ear tugged enough by Doug? Humiliating as _ that _ was.

“Look, Lest, you’ve been acting weird lately,” Frey said, anger loosening a bit to make way for concern. “I...I don’t know what your problem with Doug is, but this obviously isn’t about me anymore. Did something happen between you two I need to know about?”

Her voice was filled with such genuine worry, that Lest couldn’t help but sigh, letting the fridge door slide shut. “Nothing,” he turned, making his way deeper into the castle. Frey pursued.

“I’m so tired of this stubborn act Lest, just  _ talk _ to me. What’s your problem with Doug?”

“I don’t  _ have _ a problem,” Lest snapped a bit too quickly. Dropping down onto the edge of his bed, he wiped his face of the troubling pout it had set into.

“Alright, so maybe I’ve been giving him a hard time lately,” he recovered. “But what does it matter to you? He was being a jerk,” Lest mumbled the last part, turning away. Not quite wanting to face Frey any more, he flopped backwards into the soft down of the bed cover, folding his arms over his face.

“It’s my business because you’ve been acting weird. Because you’re running out of the castle at all times of day, leaving me with all your work. And--and because of whatever  _ that _ was at Porco’s, it’s all affecting me too,” Frey continued hotly. Lest flinched. He hadn’t realized Frey’d noticed how often he’d been sneaking out to bother Doug.

“Where do you even go anyway, when you disappear in the afternoons? Because I’ve checked the fields, and you’re never there either,” she sighed, withered. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you more dedicated to anything that isn’t farming or fighting.”

Lest half-lifted one arm, sending her a sharp look. “I do other stuff too,” he pouted defensively.

“Not like this.” The bed dipped slightly as Frey lowered herself down next to Lest, forcing him to resituate himself. He heard her make a low, worrying hum in the back of her throat. Lest lifted one arm, watching Frey look at him with a mix of frustration and concern. For some reason, it was the concern that irritated him.

“He was acting like an asshole to you, alright?” Lest defended, “The only reason I’ve been doing any of this, giving him a ‘hard time’ or whatever, it was for  _ your _ sake. So why are you getting after me for it? He’s the one being a jackass.”

“No,” Frey said simply, “ _ He’s _ not.”

Lest threw his weight forward until his feet touched the ground. “What’s wrong with some harmless teasing?”

“Is it, Lest?” Frey countered. She stared at him earnestly for a moment, searching his eyes for something she apparently couldn’t find, as she wound backward with a hollow hum. “I don’t need you to keep harassing Doug for my sake. I was,” she took in a sharp breath, “ _ Grateful _ that you told him off, at first. In your own, strange way. But that should have been enough. All this? It needs to stop.

“I can stand up for myself too, you know,” she continued, voice no louder than a whisper, “I don’t need you playing the overprotective brother all the time.”

“I...I know that,” Lest retorted. But his mouth was drawn into a thin line. “I’m just trying to help.”

“You aren’t helping anyone right now. You’re acting like a child,” she said briskly.

“Why are you trying to make me the bad guy in this?” Lest demanded, suddenly defensive. “I mean, he hasn’t even said sorry for any of it, why should it matter if I mess with him a little for that?”

“Lest,” Frey said quietly, “Doug gave me a formal apology a little under a week ago.”

“Well, that--” Lest started hotly, defensive, but quieted as the words settled in his mind. “You never told me that.”

“Of course not! Because it was  _ our _ business. We already talked it over, and there’s no more bad blood,” the look on Frey’s face was so seriously genuine, Lest had to glance away uncomfortably, “All you’re doing now is needlessly dragging things out, instead of letting us move on.”

He felt heat rise to his cheeks, coloring with that heavy, aching shame that now had a name in his chest. “I...Frey, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Frey sighed, tight and low. “I didn’t think I’d have to tell you, that you’d stop harassing Doug on your own. But, I guess I was mistaken.”

“I…” Lest opened and closed his mouth, not liking how dry it felt. He swallowed thickly, and when he spoke again his voice was meek. “I’m the one who’s been acting like a jerk to you, huh?”

“Mhmm,” she hummed, and he decided to let the condescending note in her voice slide just this once.

“I’m...sorry. For all this, Frey. I didn’t realize-- no, I didn’t mean to make things worse for you,” he admitted. Frey might be annoying sometimes, look down on him a bit too often, and sure she took everything just a little too seriously. But she was like a sister to him. And it still pained Lest greatly to know that he’d apparently been the source for so much misery for her these past couple weeks.

He glanced up, laying a hand gently on his shoulder. “It’s alright, Lest, I know you meant no harm. But, really, I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”

Lest’s brow furrowed, “Now hold on a second, do I really--”

“Lest.”

“But he was still being a jerk! You have to admit, he deserved it, just a little. And it was only some harmless teasing.”

“Yeah, that you took way too far! Just,” Frey paused, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Go say you’re sorry, alright? For me? So we can finally put an end to all this nonsense?”

“But--”

“Please?”

Lest grumbled quietly, incomprehensible, but after a long moment let a sigh hiss through his teeth. “Fine,” he said tightly, rising numbly from the bed. His throat ached.

“Thank you,” Frey said in a quiet rush, but Lest had already walked out the door before he had time to hear the rest of what she had to say.


	7. Chapter 7

Lest’s mind felt foggy and muddled as he let his feet guide him down the thin strip of cobblestone, not really paying attention to where he was walking.

Logically, he knew he was in the wrong: Frey had made it more than clear that he was in the wrong here. But physically...he couldn’t shake the sticky feeling of stubborn frustration mounting in his chest.

It wasn’t helped by the fact Frey had just finished scolding him, like he was some kid, instead of leveling with him like an adult. And really, how was he supposed to know Doug had already apologized? It’s not like she ever told him anything anymore.

Before he’d had much time to process it, Lest had ended up in front of the general store. He tried the handle but was met with mixed relief and annoyance when he found it to be locked.

“Great,” he grumbled under his breath, heading back in the direction of the restaurant. Maybe Doug was still hanging around there, for whatever reason. He doubted it: between his conversation with both Doug and Frey, the sun had already begun to creep towards the horizon, draining any lingering blue out of the sky.

Lest marched a bit too forcefully up the stairs, slowing to a stop outside Porco’s. He stood, motionless for a moment, chewing his lip as he considered.

How had Frey convinced him to apologize? This was pointless, and would definitely be more than a little humiliating.

When Lest finally managed to force himself through the door, he was unsurprised to find the restaurant empty. He had to quickly duck out again before he had a good chance to check though, as he saw a familiar gleam enter Porcoline’s eyes as he giddily began to announce that they’d found themselves alone together.

Lest had closed the door mid-sentence.

The sun cast warm orange and yellow light off the panes of the windows around Lest as he continued to shuffle forward, the onset of evening cooling the heated summer air.

He felt ridiculous, walking around aimlessly. And really, what was the point of an apology, if he was only doing it because Frey made him? Obviously he felt bad for taking things to the point he did, but mostly for Frey’s sake. Lest stood by his earlier statement: Doug deserved what he had coming. He’d made Frey cry, Lest was just trying to help. That had to count for something.

“Apparently not,” he mumbled, sliding his hands into his pockets.

Lest had just about made up his mind to give up and go back, to tell Frey he couldn’t find Doug or something, when he reached the airship. Lest nearly made the turn into the back of the fields, when he suddenly caught a flash of red on the wind.

Curious, he turned to find that Doug was, for whatever reason, sitting rather precariously on one of the railings of the airship. Though he was facing Lest, he seemed to be staring straight past him, towards the mountains in the distance marking the border between Norad and the Sechs Empire.

Out of excuses, Lest let out a small defeated sigh, making his way towards the bridge that led out onto the deck of the ship. The wood creaked under his weight, bowing slightly, but it held firm under Lest as he carefully made his way across. He’d only gotten about halfway when Doug’s gaze suddenly flashed to him, and his expression hardened.

Jeez, it’s not like he was going to bite Doug’s head off or anything. Though you wouldn’t be able to tell by the glare he was getting.

As Lest boarded the ship anyways, Doug swung his legs over the edge, planting his feet firmly on the old wooden planks. Still glaring at Lest apprehensively, he leaned back on the railing, resting backward on his elbows. His gaze was steely and his stance guarded as Lest approached.

He scoffed, wondering what could possibly warrant such sudden negativity. Well, sure, all the recent pestering. But nothing harmful enough to explain the malice in Doug’s eyes. And besides that, he’d never let on that it bothered him that much before, aside from the constant stubborn defiance.

“What do you need?” Doug sneered accusingly, “Trying to humiliate me at Porco’s earlier wasn’t enough?

Lest had to bite his tongue to keep back an automatic snide response, reminding himself why he was here. Instead, he took a deep breath in slowly through his nose, holding his hands up in surrender. “Don’t make assumptions,” he spoke simply, keeping his tone plain, “I’m calling a truce. Look, nothing on me, see?”

Doug squinted, tilting forward and angling his head from side to side, as if to make dually sure Lest wasn’t hiding anything behind his back. It was over the top, and ridiculous, but somehow the sight of it managed to soften the harsh irritation in Lest’s throat considerably.

Doug deflated, falling into a more casual stance, despite still watching Lest cautiously.

After a moment, “I’m not going to try and force any sweets on you. Don’t worry.”

“Alright, then.” Doug hummed, not seeming totally convinced but gradually accepting the answer regardless. His expression edged, turning accusing. “What did you want, then?”

“No need to sound so annoyed,” Lest irked.

“I’m not,” Doug replied.

“ _ Clearly _ you--” Lest cut himself off, forcing another deep breath. The thought of Doug seeing him, and feeling so clearly...malicious. And irritated. It didn’t feel great. In fact, it only served to put Lest on edge, making him strangely defensive.

Why did he care? Hadn’t he only come here to hand out an empty apology, satisfy Frey, and leave?

“Can’t I drop by just to talk, without there being any other…” Lest rolled his head to the side, pursing his lips, “Hidden motivations?”

Doug scoffed. “You? No.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He said a bit harsher than intended.

“Look man, all you’ve done for weeks now is scare the shit out of me by popping out of nowhere to try and, I don’t know, embarrass me? Get back at me? For something I did a while ago. That I didn’t even do to  _ you _ . So what else am I supposed to think?”

“Well, yeah, sure the last couple weeks have been--” Lest spluttered, “But listen, we’ve lived in the same town for years now, it’s not like this started more than a couple weeks ago. You’re hardly being fair.”

Doug shrugged, indifferent. “It’s not like we talked all that much before you started all this crap, anyway.”

“But that shouldn’t--” Lest let out a frustrated, disgruntled noise. “Why are you making this so difficult for me?” He grit out.

“Look, did you need something from me, or not?” Doug rolled his eyes, turning a distinctly unpleasant look on Lest. “Cause I was kinda doing fine on my own here, man. Without you getting on my case about whatever problem  _ you _ have with me.”

Lest’s jaw tightened, his teeth gritting together. “I  _ had _ come up here to apologize. But, you know what, forget that. Obviously it doesn’t matter what I say, if you’re just going to be convinced I--I’m only trying to make you miserable. So whatever. I’m leaving.” The words burned his throat, and Lest was a bit surprised by how pained they’d come off as.

Not wanting to give it much more thought, and frankly quite done with this whole mess and content to never speak with Doug again, he turned sharply on one heel.

Doug flitted forward, expression softening considerably. “Ah--shit, wait, Lest!”

Lest purposefully ignored him, storming across the bridge that led back to solid ground. Doug continued to call after him as he tromped across, creaking the wood angrily, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.

The stubborn boiling sensation, building since the scene in the study earlier, felt like an explosion ready to go off at any moment.

This had been an awful idea. Why’d he agreed to it so easily? None of this had gotten him anywhere but to show Lest how much Doug apparently hated him now for what he thought was simple, light-hearted teasing.

Why should he care what that stupid dwarf thought so much? He’d already proven himself not worth the effort. Then, why was his disapproval putting a bitter taste in Lest’s mouth?

He was so caught up in his own head, that Lest didn’t register the hand wrapped around his wrist until he found resistance in his steady march forward. He was forced to pull to a stop at the base of the bridge, not bothering to turn and look at Doug. His fingers burned into the small amount of exposed skin at the cuff of Lest’s sleeve.

“Let go,” Lest ground out quietly.

“Hey man, now hold on a second,” Doug’s voice edged on desperate. He didn’t release Lest, even in the ensuing silence.

Finally, Lest turned, with the resolute intention of telling Doug off. But at seeing the dwarf, at how surprisingly soft and pleading his warm grey eyes were, any remark died on his tongue.

“What?” Lest demanded, surprised at the pained bite in his words. At least he wasn’t shouting anymore.

“I…” Doug hadn’t seemed to have thought ahead this far, his eyes falling to the ground, troubled. Doug’s fingers tightened around Lest’s wrist briefly, his mouth screwing shut. Then in an instant, he was released: Doug allowing his arm to drop limply back to his side.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “I shouldn’t’ve gotten so bent out of shape before giving you a chance to explain yourself. I just…” There was a sharp intake of breath, and Doug ran a hand through his hair as he mulled over his next thought.

“I haven’t been in the best headspace right now, ya know? A lot’s been going on. And...I sorta came up here thinking I was gonna be left alone.” Doug cuffed his foot against the bridge, face contorting in frustration. When he spoke again, his words were barely above a whisper, almost inaudible to Lest. “Granny’s condition’s gotten worse. Found out at the clinic, today, after I got back. That’s why I’ve been so on edge, I mean.

“Oh,” was all Lest managed to say. He knew it wasn’t enough.

“I really didn’t mean to offend you, I swear. I just--it’s been rough, last couple of hours. I thought she was finally recovering from whatever bug she got but I--gods, sorry, you don’t need to deal with this right now,” Doug muttered, voice shaking on the last word.

The hot, angry boiling sensation popped all at once, spreading through Lest’s entire body from head to toe like a thick syrup. It made him ache: hurt for the struggling boy in front of him. “No, I don’t mind. I mean...it’s alright,” Lest said quietly, unable to say more around the molasses in his throat.

“Gods, I just, I don’t even know what to do anymore, ya know? I feel so useless, just standing there, watching her. Just,  _ worrying _ that she’s--” Unable to finish the thought, he instead let out a long huff. Lest noticed his shoulders were shaking, hands balled into tight fists.

Lest could feel his heart hammering in his ears, speeding faster for the sake of the quickly crumbling facade in front of him. Doug had never been this open, not with him. Not except once, years ago, when he’d watched him question the life he’d thought he’d known in front of a long-dead dragon.

How was he supposed to handle this?

Anger was one thing. He knew how to deal with anger. Or bitterness. Or pettiness. But this was something different, more fragile.

“Hey, it’s alright, okay?” Lest began shakily. “You can talk to me, if it helps, I mean. I can listen,” he tried to keep his voice soft, sympathetic. Lest lifted a hand, hesitating only a moment, before touching it lightly to Doug’s shoulder.

Doug practically melted at the contact, leaning heavily to the side and hands unfurling. “Sorry, shit, I’m sorry. I don’t wanna force this on you, but--” Doug caught his quivering lower lip harshly in his teeth, biting down.

“No, no don’t worry about it. I don’t mind. I want to help,” Lest insisted.

“I just don’t know what to do anymore,” Doug pressed on, tilting forward slightly. Lest had to firm his grip on his shoulder to keep him from falling forward, especially considering their precarious position on the bridge.

“Things got really bad. Like,  _ really  _ bad, really quick,” Doug took in a long, shaky breath, “And I I don’t ever really know how to handle myself when she gets like this. I mean, I know she used to get sick a lot, years ago, but barely at all since I’ve been here. And seeing her just sleeping in bed all day, looking so...pale. Like she’s already--” Doug hiccuped. “I just can’t take it anymore.

“Sorry, I’m a mess right now,” he sighed bitterly. “Gods, I told myself I’d be able to handle this, I’d just go sit somewhere--shit and now I’ve made it all about myself, huh? I’m sure you didn’t come up here just for me to annoy you with all my own crap. I get it, you can go. I’m fine here on my own. Don’t worry.”

“No, Doug I’m here,” Lest bit his lower lip, shaking his head. “I’m here.” How could Doug think he would want to leave? He couldn’t even imagine how he could possibly leave him like this.

“This is pathetically uncool,” Doug breathed. His head fell forward suddenly, landing dully on Lest’s shoulder. He couldn’t see his face, but Doug’s body quivered like a leaf under him. “What am I supposed to do? I mean, I’ve been trying to be there for her, best I can. To run the store, do stuff around the house...But it’s just been so much. Nothing helps, not really. I feel totally useless.”

The vulnerable admission of weakness surprised Lest a bit. Doug had always been the first to gloat about how strong and independent he was. This was a side of the dwarf Lest couldn’t have ever guessed existed. A modest, almost bumbling side.

“That’s not true, Doug. You’re one of the strongest people I know,” Lest, awkwardly, tried patting Doug on the shoulder.

He chuckled humorlessly into Lest’s shoulder. “Maybe physically.”

Lest rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Alright so maybe not  _ so _ modest.

For a long moment, silence stretched between them, filled only with Doug’s quick, shallow breathing. “You know,” he began slowly, voice muffled by the fabric of Lest’s tunic, “After my tribe was wiped out, I practically ran crying straight into the Sech’s arms without another thought. Been feeling a lot like I did back then, lately. I was so desperate...I couldn’t stand being by myself.

“Even when things got bad, when they had me  _ doing _ bad stuff, I stuck it out. Cause they were someone to rely on. And--and nothing’s changed, really, has it? Everyone still has to do everything  _ for _ me,” He scoffed.

Lest could tell Doug was beginning to spiral, so he reached out, laying both hands gently on Doug’s back. He’d never had to comfort anyone like this before, not in his memory anyway (which admittedly was rather limited), and Lest was buzzing with nerves as he spoke.

“Doug, you’re being way too hard on yourself,” Lest said in what he hoped was a soothing voice, “You’ve always been reliable, everyone knows that. You’re...maybe a little clueless at times but, I...I’ve never had anything but respect for you.” As he said the words, Lest knew them to be true.

And for the first time guilt -- sticky, warm guilt -- began to creep its way into his chest, lodging there like a tumor, for treating Doug so poorly these past several weeks. He’d had no idea what Doug had been going through with Blossom, though that was a pitiful excuse. And...gods, his teasing had probably only made things so much harder.

“I don’t wanna lose anyone again,” Doug accompanied this with a small hiccup that could almost be mistaken for a whimper, pressing his head firmer against Lest.

It made his heart ache, and he subconsciously tightened his grip on the boy in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, Doug,” Lest said softly, “But we’re all here for you.”

“Sure,” Doug snorted, half-heartedly, “Damn, I can’t even sulk right on my own, can I? Stupid...instead I end up breaking down in front of the one person that couldn’t care less about what I have to say.”

Lest dug his fingers tighter into the fabric of Doug’s jacket, squeezing him lightly. “Hey.” Doug slowly peeled himself off, gaze settling weakly on Lest’s. The crystal grey was cloudy and red, his eyes wide and watering as they stared with an indescribably soft pleading at Lest. His nose was running slightly.

Doug’s expression was so open, so vulnerable. He looked broken. Lest’s tunic felt slightly damp where Doug had just pulled himself up from it.

“You’re trying the best you can, really. And--and you’re not a burden, not at all,” Lest said resolutely, “No one else thinks so, either. You’re a part of this town, and we all look out for each other, alright?” He couldn’t promise Blossom’s well being, no one could but...this, he felt he could do. Offer his support.

There was a long, drawn-out silence, and when Doug met his eyes it sent something warm and light sparking through Lest’s chest. “You mean it?”

“Of course,” Lest barely registered the words through the white noise that had begun to play in his head. Everything was drowned out in the presence of that impossibly open, deep grey stare.

Doug sniffed loudly, wiping his face roughly with the back of one sleeve. When he pulled his arm away, he looked a lot better. His eyes were tired and red, but not so sad anymore. Lest’s hands lingered at his shoulders.

“Besides,” Lest heaved a large breath, “I can...relate. To what you’re feeling, if you ever need someone to talk to. It sucks, worrying about your family. And losing someone.”

Doug turned thoughtful a moment. “You talking about the dragon?”

Lest didn’t respond, merely letting the silence fill the space between them comfortably. Doug continued to watch him for an answer curiously but didn’t press when he was given none.

Eventually, he started to fidget, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “You really didn’t have to stick around, you know,” Doug wiped his nose again, looking away in a rare show of bashfulness. “I know I’m being kind of a bummer right now.”

“I told you already, I wanted to help,” Lest pronounced resolutely, leaving no room for argument. Doug turned an earnest look on him, and its intensity was enough that it was now Lest’s turn to glance away sheepishly.

“Look, I don’t really hate you  _ that _ much, you know. Or...at all.” Lest said quietly, the words stringing together quickly in a low mutter.

There was a pause. “Aw, man, are you going soft on me?” Doug’s tone lilted teasingly, as he reached up to ruffle Lest’s hair. He flinched back, not quite managing to duck out from under his hand. The illusion was ruined again when Doug sniffed loudly.

“Shut up,” Lest muttered.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you act so nice,” Doug mused cheekily, “First time you’ve acted so normal.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lest shot.

“Just you always look so...devious. Like, I haven’t seen you handle things like a normal person, ever, I think.”

“Oh, come on now,” Lest protested, “That’s hardly fair.”

“Hey, now I’ve seen you pull a real face twice now,” Doug grinned thinly, and while this was a vast improvement to him looking so upset, Lest shot him a withering look nonetheless. “Now I’ve seen what you look like when you’re being nice,  _ and _ how cute of a pout you have!”

“What I--I do not!” Lest barked defensively, heat flaring in his chest and cheeks in equal measure. “Anyways,” he continued hotly, crossing his arms and turning away, “I see it didn’t take you long to go back to being obnoxious.”

“C’mon, you can’t start with me now. It’s too late,” Doug grinned, “I already know what you’re  _ really _ thinking. You’re actually just a big softie, aren’t ya? I’d never have guessed!”

“Stop,” Lest warned, “Don’t even start with that--”

“What, talking about you having emotions like a real person?” Doug watched Lest with a small smirk.

Lest had to grin a bit at that, the expression lopsided and small, but lighting up his eyes. “Don’t blow my cover.”

“No promises,” he shrugged. And the soft smile on Doug’s face seemed so much more satisfying to look at, now that Lest had seen firsthand just how much his agony could hurt.

Why had he been chasing after Doug’s irritation and pettiness all this time? Lest thought he preferred this expression much better.

\--

Lest still hadn’t decided why he was doing this, as he stood under the starry cover of the summer sky, a slight chill running up his back as he knocked on the door to the general store. He shifted the package tucked neatly under one arm, resituating it to fit more snugly against his side.

It had been several days since Lest’s conversation with Doug on the airship, but that made him feel no less awkward, standing outside like he’d done a dozen times before, shuffling his feet. The store should have been closed already for the night, but Lest had a feeling it wouldn’t be empty quite yet.

When there was no response, he knocked again. He’d learned his lesson last time about simply barging in without invitation. And tonight especially, Lest had no intention of inviting any unnecessary ill will.

He heard a loud thunk on the other side of the door, and suddenly Doug appeared in the slim crack of golden light that appeared. “Lest?” he asked, confused. With a bit of shuffling he opened the door the rest of the way. His frame was darkened by the shadow of the overhang, back silhouetted by the bright interior of the store.

“Hey,” Lest said finally, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. He was finding it oddly difficult to hold eye contact. “Can I come inside?” he tried finally.

“O-oh, yeah, sure,” Doug stepped back inside quickly, allowing Lest to slide in behind him, pulling the door shut.

He took in a deep breath, taking in the smell of old wood and dust. It was warm inside the store: but not unpleasantly so, as it might have been earlier in the day. Instead, it was a welcome change from the chilly night air.

Doug crossed his arms, shifting his weight onto one leg and seeming to try a bit too hard to look casual. He eyed the package under Lest’s arm suspiciously, but gracefully didn’t comment. Moving further inside, he set it down on the counter, next to the register.

Gods, why did he feel so stiff and nervous?

With a lack of anything better to do, Lest stood by the counter awkwardly, running his fingers lightly against the warm wood.

“So…” Doug began, before appearing beside him suddenly, leaning back against the counter only a few feet away. “Uh...how have you been? I guess? I mean, you’re probably pretty busy with the spring harvest right now, so…”

Somehow, watching Doug fumble around just as much as himself was enough to break some of the ice coating Lest’s throat. “I’m impressed Doug,” he said impishly, “I didn’t know you had it in you to care about me for anything other than my cooking.” He grinned sweetly, but Doug clearly wasn’t buying it.

“Yeah…” He glanced again at the package on the counter, eyebrows drawing together. For some reason, the suspicion and wry anticipation in his eyes made something begin to tingle unpleasantly in Lest’s stomach. “Anyway...you never said what you came over for,” Doug said slowly, two steps away from a leading question.

“I’m making a house call,” Lest said simply, shrugging.

“So…” Doug shifted nervously, still eyeing the counter.

“So…?” Lest posed.

Doug shot him a slightly pointed look, fleshed with irritation at Lest’s faux cluelessness. “Did you bring the...you know…?”

“Oh, what, this?” Lest half-turned, nudging the parcel a bit closer to Doug. He simply stared at the offer, unmoving.

“Well?” Lest sighed.

“What?”

“You aren’t going to open it?”

“I…yeah sure,” he heaved a sigh. Rolling his eyes, Doug shuffled forward. Lest didn’t miss him muttering “not this again” under his breath as he began to undo the loose strings on the paper. It was strange, how much his mistrust grated on Lest. Almost crossing the line back into irritating.

“You know, I don’t think I ever actually apologized to you the other day,” Lest began as Doug worked on unwrapping the thin brown paper. “Which’s ironic, since that’s the only reason I tracked you down in the first place.”

“Wait--no way, is this rice?” Doug, now much more reverently, pulled a small bowl of tempura rice out of the discarded paper and string. His eyes had gone wide, sparkling brightly as he eyed the dish, a wide grin breaking out across his face.

“This totally rules,” he gleamed, turning his attention suddenly on Lest, “Did you seriously make this for me?”

“I, well, I hoped it’d make up for the last couple weeks,” Lest said quietly, turning away quickly.

“Oh, it definitely does,” Doug said plainly.

“No need to be so blunt,” Lest retorted.

But Doug wasn’t paying attention to him anymore, holding the bowl like some rare treasure. “Man, this is gonna taste so good. I mean don’t get me wrong, your pudding is amazing too, I’m still convinced you use some sorta magic on it. But it’s only pudding, right? I can’t even begin to imagine how good the rice you made’s gonna be!”

Doug was entirely giddy, smiling happily like a kid in a candy shop. It caused this small, impossibly soft and fluttery feeling to fill Lest’s chest. He decided he wouldn’t mind if Doug made this face more, as often as possible, really. Especially after seeing him the other day...the vast improvement was not lost on him.

Lest leaned an arm on the counter, hand grazing the warm surface.

How had he been satisfied with only seeing this face form around a pout or an irritated scowl? Now that Lest had seen what a brilliant spectrum of expressions Doug could make, he felt ridiculous for wasting so much time only trying to rile him up.

Doug turned, carefully placing the tempura rice to the side of the register. His expression was unexpected: open, unsure. It had Lest’s immediate attention, his pulse racing lightly under his skin.

Doug took a hesitant step forward, fingers curling and uncurling on the surface of the counter.

“Seriously, Lest, this...means a lot. And I wanna thank you for, you know, what you did the other day too. That also meant a lot,” as he spoke, his eyes began to wander. When they finally landed on Lest, they were so bright the breath in his throat nearly hitched. “I’m lucky to, ya know, have you around.”

Lest hadn’t realized how he’d been drifting forward slowly, until he suddenly felt his knuckles brush against Doug’s on the counter, the sensation like a static shock. He flinched, suddenly worried about how Doug might react. But he didn’t pull away so, neither did Lest.

His nerves began to pique, clustering in his chest and stomach, swirling around angrily. “You shouldn’t,” Lest said quietly, sadly, “I’ve been a jerk to you.”

Doug shrugged, but that was background information at this point. They were so close, Lest had begun to lose himself in the churning grey of Doug’s eyes as they settled on his.

“It’s fine. We already talked it out,,” Doug said. The white noise was back between Lest’s ears, ringing in full force. “I figured out you’re just kinda...like that. Like a cat or something, you know?”

“Yeah…”

Lest leaned forward in fractions, hand twitching at his side, fingers curling. He’d always thought Doug’s eyes were just grey, but that wasn’t true at all. They were stunning: pulsing like a storm, flecked with hazy blue and muted purple. The subtle colors seemed to mix and churn together, drifting and concentrating into the intense black of his pupils. Maybe it was a dwarf thing.

Lest could feel himself drifting again, his lips parting and his breath falling hot and heavy on his tongue. His exhales mingled with Doug’s short bursts of air, tasting of the same old wood and dust that coated the rest of the store. He hadn’t even realized how close he’d gotten, when Lest’s breath suddenly caught in his throat, mere inches from Doug’s.

What the hell was he doing?

The nerve balloon in him popped, streaming up and down his limbs and giving Lest the jolt of energy to propel himself as far back from Doug as he could. Which only happened to be a few feet: a chilling reminder of just how insanely close they’d gotten a moment before.

“I--I’m sorry,” Lest got out in a rush.

Doug watched him, bemused. Lest barely had time to catch him blink, another apology falling from his lips as he rushed out of the general store, letting the door slam shut behind him.

The air was blisteringly cold on his heated face as Lest barely registered the sound of his shoes smacking the paved cobblestone. Everything seemed to move in a blur: time having no place in Lest’s head at the moment.

And suddenly he was back at the castle, just inside the door, chest heaving from a sprint he didn’t remember entering, and shoulders shaking from a mistake that had nearly been made.

The adrenaline began to slowly pump its way out of his system, and Lest managed to steady his breaths enough that he wasn’t hyperventilating. Gradually, he began to come back to himself, the buzzing in his ears fading into the numbing silence of the room, only filled with Frey’s peaceful snoring coming from the couch in the corner.

He leaned back heavily on the door frame. Lest’s knees were weak and he felt oddly nauseous. Sort of...tingly. Like stomach butterflies but...no, exactly like that.

The more clarity he regained, the less Lest was able to avoid the truth he’d just sprinted away from.

He had nearly kissed Doug.

There was no use denying it. Lest was such an idiot, he hadn’t been thinking at all, really. And his minor lapse had almost ruined everything.

Lest hadn’t even known he’d had that in him.

Where had it come from? This sudden, inexplicable urge, the same one that pulled them so close together in the shop. When had he started feeling that? Feeling like he should kiss Doug? Feeling like he... _ wanted _ to kiss Doug.

The mental image that conjured did nothing to help Lest’s already abused nerves, sending another electric current up his throat. And suddenly all Lest could see were those deep grey eyes, the sight of them sending his head spinning.

When had  _ that _ happened?

Lest was brought back to reality suddenly by a muffled snort from Frey. His eyes fell to her in an instant. All this had started because Doug had pointedly  _ rejected _ a near love confession from her. Which made things so much more complicated.

What was he supposed to do now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a long chapter, but I really couldn't figure out a good place to split it so here we are ._.'  
> Finally onto the mushy gushies! Lest is going to have such a hard time of it, rip.


	8. Chapter 8

“Lest,” Frey’s voice was strained.

“Hmm?” He was only half paying attention to her.

“Either you tell me what’s wrong, or sit down. You’re starting to stress me out.”

“Nothing’s wrong. I told you already, I’m fine,” Lest snapped a bit too quickly.

Frey looked up at that, watching him over the rim of her reading glasses. “Obviously not. You’re tighter than a spring, and haven’t stopped pacing all morning.”

“I’m fine,” he lied again.

Frey sighed breathily, setting aside the ledger she’d been scribbling in. “Did something happen?”

“No,” Lest said sharply, stopping suddenly to glare at her, “It’s nothing.”

She looked a bit surprised at first, but quickly schooled her expression to something neutrally concerned. Lest cringed. He hadn’t meant to snap at her.

“Sorry,” he amended tightly, “Don’t worry about me. Seriously, I’m alright.”

“Lest, I wasn’t going to say anything, because whether you share or not is your own business but -- you are obviously not fine. We’ve known each other forever, I can tell when something’s bothering you.” Removing her glasses, Frey gestured broadly to Lest, who had begun his pacing again, “Although to be fair, anyone could at this point! You look like you’re about to have a breakdown.”

Lest smiled grimly. Like he wasn’t already.

Yes,  _ obviously _ she was right. Lest was anything but fine at the moment and his head, heart, and stomach were all telling him entirely different things about what this meant. None of which helped how stressed he was at the already tenuous state of his new “friendship” with a certain redheaded dwarf.

Because, seemingly out of nowhere, he’d found out he might sort of maybe like the idea of kissing Doug. Had almost done so, in fact, and Frey involving herself was only making things that much more complicated. Especially since she was already tied in with this...sort of.

He couldn’t even talk to her about it, without risking making things more of a weird mess than they already were. What if she still had feelings for Doug? Would she be offended? Or would she be the martyr, playing supportive while feeling bitter? The latter sounded more like her, more gracious, but that didn’t help any.

“I think I’m going to go check on the fields,” Lest announced suddenly, a bit desperate to leave before Frey had a chance to pry more.

She gave him a curious look, obviously concerned. “We’ve already done the watering for the day, though.”

“I, uh, saw some weeds by the cucumbers.”

Frey leaned forward, leveling him with a hard look, squinted eyes searching him up and down. “Don’t think you’re going to use this as cover, I still think something’s up,” she accused. After a moment, Frey relented, sighing. “But...I guess I can’t make you tell me anything you don’t want to. Just know I’m here to talk when you need it, alright?”

“Sure, great, sounds good,” Lest got out in a rush, “See ya later, Frey.” He was out the door in a second, wringing his hands together nervously. Gods, that’s all he seemed to be feeling lately: a tightly packed bundle of nerves.

It was a wholly alien experience to him: these confusing, conflicting emotions. What with his limited life experience due to the sudden memory loss several years ago, Lest didn’t know what to make of any of this.

He pulled on a pair of farming gloves, grabbing the wooden pale they kept by the well for weeding on his way to the east field.

What had come over him yesterday? It had been like he was possessed, completely out of control of his own body.

Lest had never felt like kissing anybody before. Or doing anything else particularly intimate, for that matter. It just wasn’t something he’d ever really seen the need for: had barely even thought of. It just wasn’t that relevant in a town this small.

But now, it was like that was all he could think about: Lest’s mind running through stupid, unrealistic scenarios without break. Thoughts of Doug, of those stormy grey eyes on him, his…

Lest shook his head vigorously, trying to snap himself out of it.

What was wrong with him? And why did this have to happen with  _ Doug _ of all people? He’d been right in his blunt analysis the other day on the airship: before recent events, they hadn’t even talked that much outside the occasional trip to the general store. Not to mention that whole mess with the rune spheres a few years back, which wasn’t exactly a great bonding experience. 

He and Frey had always been closer anyway, but for some reason, even that small fact bothered Lest now.

Yet despite it all, he couldn’t stand the thought of Doug disliking him in any way. Which he definitely did, after that stunt he’d pulled out of nowhere last night. As if the realization of his own burgeoning feelings weren’t enough, Lest was reminded that he’d nearly crossed a line last night, with someone who had already thought Lest hated him until the very recent past. What he must think of him now...Lest cringed.

Needing to think of literally anything else, he plopped down between two rows of cucumbers. He gently turned over a half-grown cuke in one gloved hand, forcing himself to pay attention to the small details. Lest searched for any blemishes or bruises, gently thumbing through the leaves to check for pests or tears.

The vegetable was looking surprisingly good, actually. As were the next few he checked, forcing himself to be slow and thorough. These had been mostly his idea this season, so Lest was pleased they were turning out so well. Maybe he’d even manage to beat the green peppers Frey had planted in the harvest festival at the end of the summer. He won more often than not though, so he wasn’t particularly worried.

Only able to keep himself distracted by vegetables for so long, Lest pulled the gloves further up his arms, beginning the tedious process of weeding the fields. Pulling, digging, chucking into the basket. Repeat.

The work was repetitive though, and as he weeded Lest’s mind began to wander again. It cycled through images of last night like a projector he’d lost the controls for. The smell of dust, his hand brushing Doug’s. Of how close they’d been, how warm Doug’s breath had felt on his face in the already heated room, how--

Lest shook his head, pulling out a weed with more force than necessary, and sending bits of soil flying as a result. He yanked the next one up a bit too harshly as well, tearing off some of the leaves.

“Stupid dwarf,” Lest grumbled, grabbing the next pest.

The wiry leaves wove between his fingers easily, almost silkenly, and Lest imagined the thin stems were Doug’s hair as he yanked it painfully from the ground, hoping for some sort of catharsis with the imagery. But this had the opposite effect and an intense, boiling heat began to fill his stomach.

“Forget this,” Lest declared suddenly, face heating. He stood up quickly, sending loose soil tumbling onto the ground. Stripping off his gloves and casting them aside, Lest didn’t even bother picking up the half-filled pale before storming back towards the castle. Maybe it would help if he paced some more.

Gods, after all this he just...he could only hope Doug didn’t hate him too much.

\--

“How about here?”

She seemed to consider this a moment, before shaking her head. “No.”

“Here?” Lest pointed to the map spread out across Frey’s desk, his finger landing somewhere just south of the plaza outside the castle.

“Lest…” Frey sounded tired.

“Ok, alright, too close to the forest, makes sense. But, how about by the inn? There’s a pretty good view.” Lest nudged her lightly with his shoulder.

“Lest, look--”

“Or here? The pathway, sort of by Meg’s place looks nice,” his hand moved to the corresponding location on the map.

“Lest!” He looked over in muted alarm, startled by Frey’s suddenly intense tone. She sighed, shaking her head. “Sorry, sorry. Just...it’s going to take a little more thought to come up with the main firefly viewing venue than just pointing to random places around town.”

“Oh,” he said simply, retracting his hand entirely and standing up straighter.

“Sorry,” she didn’t  _ sound _ too apologetic, “But I think I can probably handle this on my own. Why don’t you get back to your own work?”

Lest crossed his arms, “Come on Frey. Why do you keep shutting me out?”

“What do you--”

“You know exactly what I mean,” Lest humphed, standing his ground firmly. “My ‘own work’ has been signing off on travel visas for like, the whole week! You haven’t given me a chance to help you out with the Firefly Festival at all. And I think this is a little too important to only have one set of hands working on it.”

“Two,” Frey glanced at the incredulous look Lest shot her, elaborating with a sigh, “Arthur’s been a great help. And so have you: those forms are important to work, even if it doesn’t seem like it.”

“Yeah, but nothing to do with the festival. Some of these are for trips next season, or later. Is it really a priority?” Lest shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Lest,” she sighed, pressing a hand to her temple, “I really don’t have time to argue right now. There’s still so much I have left to do today and the festival’s scheduled in less than two weeks...I just, really don’t have the time for you.”

Lest blinked. “You don’t have the time for me?” Lest parroted with a small scoff.

Frey let out a small, frustrated note. “Lest, don’t take this the wrong way--”

“How else am I supposed to take it?” He asked. “Frey, you keep butting me out of anything that has anything to do with this festival. And every time I try to help--”

“To interrupt,” Frey corrected through her teeth.

“To  _ help _ , you just treat me like some little kid! Like none of my ideas are worth anything. Oh! Oh, and don’t think I don’t know you’ve been sneaking off to Arthur’s either.” Lest took a breath, sidestepping the desk so he was facing Frey full on across from it. “Arthur asked  _ me _ to help with this too, you know. So obviously he thinks he can trust me.”

“Well, you know what?” Frey paused a moment, seeming to hesitate. It lasted half a second though, broken by a sharp intake of breath. “You’re right, I am having a little trouble relying on your help. Because it  _ is _ important, and it  _ is _ a lot of work. And all you ever do is take your time picking through papers, then run off to mess around the second you get bored. So I’m  _ sorry _ if I’m questioning your responsibility.

“You can’t just step in when the work’s fun. And you’re just not consistent enough for something this big,” Frey finished, by this point having risen from her chair and met Lest’s stare full-on.

Lest worked his jaw, searching for some easy retort. How he wished he could snap at her for being wrong, unfair, selfish. But he wavered. She’d always been better at this part of their job, paperwork had never been his thing. So maybe there was the smallest ring of truth to her words.

But didn’t give her any excuse.

“Sorry I’m that much trouble for you,” he heaved, pushing back from the desk, “I guess I’ll just go back to fighting and farmwork, right? You said they’re the only things I’m good at?”

“Maybe then I’ll get some work done,” Frey said sharply.

“I’m freezing, ice queen,” Lest snarked, doing a fairly good job (he thought) of hiding the small, annoying stab of hurt that had spiked through his throat.

It far from overshadowed his current frustration however and, determined to be the one to get in the last word, Lest stormed severely from the castle before Frey had a chance to respond. All he heard before he was out the door was that long, withering sigh she seemed to save for the sole purpose of aggravating him.

The second he was out the door though, Lest just about turned on his heel and went back to face the dragon in their chambers as he caught sight of Doug’s bright red hair, bobbing across the plaza.

Feeling trapped between a rock and a hard place, Lest settled on darting towards the front of the castle, ducking into the front entrance of the dragon room before the dwarf had a chance to spot him. He was probably headed in that direction anyway, to leave another offering or something, but at least he had several outs in here that would still let him give Frey a wide berth.

So that made two people he was consciously avoiding at this point, then. A large number, in a town with so few residents.

And he had been avoiding Doug: like the plague.

Lest continued to watch Doug from a small outward-facing window as he approached the castle, ready to take off at any moment. He was equal parts surprised and relieved when Doug turned at the last second, heading for the side entrance he’d just run out of moments before.

Curiosity quickly overpowering caution, Lest silently started down the hallway that would lead him back to his chambers, decently certain he’d be able to hide in the dim corridor well enough to remain out of sight. At least long enough for him to figure out why Doug was here.

Although he had a sneaking suspicion.

It had been about a week since his last run-in with the dwarf, and he intended on keeping the streak going.

Ever since his...realization, Lest had been dreading facing Doug, and the guaranteed discussion of what had happened that night in the shop by extension. It seemed all his conversations were set out to be difficult ones these days.

Now, this plan was all well and good on paper, but in reality, it turned out avoiding Doug was a bit of an inconvenience. Staying away from the general store was a hassle, and twice now Lest had been forced to quickly run into the cover of storefronts when encountering Doug by chance in the open. Ironic, as Lest had only just recently been struggling for the opposite. Which was...telling. Lest almost felt ashamed for not identifying his feelings earlier, before they spun out of control and he’d acted out of place.

Forming a small crush on the very person he’d only gotten close to in trying to avenge his roommate's love confession gone wrong...how pathetic.

It weighed him down with guilt, as if his very emotions were a betrayal not only to Frey, but the person he’d been ceaselessly tormenting for weeks.

All of these were reasons Lest crept silently forward as he reached the end of the hall, careful to stay in the shadows and stopping right inside the final turn into his chambers. It wasn’t ideal: but there was no door between him and their living space, and he could just make out Frey and Doug’s voices without too much effort.

“Well, do you know when he’s going to be back?” Doug asked, his casual tone edged a bit.

A pause, then a sigh from Frey. “I already told you, I don’t know. Lest...he’s out, running some errands. I don’t think he’ll be back for a while. Though you’re welcome to wait, I suppose,” her words were a bit strained, bitter in a way, likely at Doug interrupting her precious workflow.

Lest had perked up at his name, unwisely sneaking forward a little more. He’d guessed as much that Doug would have come in looking for him: making Lest’s sudden and dramatic departure a stroke of luck in the end.

He angled his head further, trying to pick up any traces of intonation in Doug’s voice that might indicate where they stood.

But after a long pause, he just seemed deflated. “Nah, that’s alright, I should be getting back to the store anyways. Just wanted to check.”

There was another pause, stretching a bit too long for Lest’s patience, and then the distant sound of shoes on flagstone. The door creaked open, but just as he began to unwind, Doug piped up again, “Hey, Frey? He’s...he’s okay, isn’t he?” There was something creeping in his voice.

Lest didn’t get a chance to analyze it too long though, as at that moment he heard a distinct pair of footsteps making their way down the hall towards him. Not liking the idea of being caught spying on his roommate and his...and Doug, Lest quickly turned and continued back the way he’d come as if he’d been heading that direction already.

He passed Vishnal and Clorica, nodding amiably at them, both engrossed in a conversation about….curry, by the sounds of it. Interesting.

Lest kept walking, out the back and through the fields, unsure of where his legs were taking him, but hoping to the gods it was far enough he could escape the disapproving pair of eyes that had plagued his mind lately.

He ended up on the airship.

\--

“Lest, watch your form. Keep your back straight.”

Lest flinched, going ramrod straight as Forte lightly smacked him in the center of his back. Even though it was supposed to be light, Forte really didn’t know her own strength.

Still, Lest followed the advice, paying attention to his stance again as he readjusted the broadsword in his grip. Seemingly satisfied, Forte resumed her position across from him. In the next moment, she’d lunged forward, giving Lest barely enough time to counter a blow that seemed rather severe for just sparring.

Lest had joined Forte for her daily training sessions in the empty field near the forest before on occasion, but it had become a more frequent occurrence lately. Other than ‘fighting and farming’, sparring with Forte was one of the best ways Lest had found to clear his thoughts. So was talking with Ventuswill, but that wasn’t really a viable option for escapism anymore.

So he’d been tagging along, spending more time under the trees practicing with Forte than in the castle. It was getting...more difficult, being back there. Around Frey, who kept growing obviously irritated at his supposed incompetence and insisting he was neglecting the endless amount of busywork she assigned him. All while keeping him in the dark regarding anything actually important.

Then there was always the possibility Doug would be back looking for him and...no, that option seemed just as bad, if not worse, to confronting Frey on treating him like a functioning adult and not an underling.

So, Forte it was.

She definitely appreciated having a partner, Lest could tell that much. But it was clear that she knew something was up with him. Forte never said anything, but sometimes Lest would catch her staring at him from the corner of his eye with this strange look.

She never pressed it though, and for that Lest was grateful. It was also one of the main reasons he kept coming back out here: it was hard to talk over the sound of clashing metal.

With a broad swipe he just barely dodged, and a firm blow to the chest, Lest was sent to the ground with Forte standing over him, the clear victor.

“You win...again,” Lest sighed, staring up at her along the edge of her sword. His arms and shoulders ached terribly and he was so drenched in sweat it nearly covered him like a membrane. Forte’s sword dropped in an instant, replaced by her outstretched hand.

Lest took it after a moment, allowing her to haul him to his feet.

He had bent over himself the second she’d let him go: placing his hands securely on his knees as he fought to catch his breath. “How,” he panted, “Do you still look so put together? We’ve been fighting for hours, and it’s hotter than an oven out here.” Especially in all that heavy armor.

When he glanced up, Forte merely shrugged. “I do this every day, I suppose I’ve grown used to it by now.”

“Seriously though, in this weather?”

Another shrug. “I don’t think it’s that hot.”

“Of course not,” Lest mumbled, but it was with a muted sort of reverence. After he’d managed to inhale without feeling like he was funneling hot sand into his lungs, Lest straightened fully, collecting his discarded sword from the ground. It nearly slipped in his grip.

“Go again?” He tried, lifting the sword and falling into a fighting stance.

And there it was again: that troubled look. She must not have realized the expression she was making, as she quickly wiped it when she caught Lest staring.

“If you think you’re up to it,” there was a note of concern in her tone, but at least she was letting him make his own decisions, like an adult.

“Yeah,” he took in a deep breath, “I think I am, yeah.”

“Very well.” Her declaration should have been the last of it, but something stayed Forte’s blade. And after a moment, she withdrew her stance, standing erect.

Lest didn’t need to follow the firm set of her eyes to know who was approaching behind him, she was making it clear enough in the string of lecturing words that fell out of her mouth.

“Lest! What on earth are you doing out here?” Frey demanded, “You still have work to do back at the castle!”

Deep breath.

Drawing himself up and tucking his sword back in its sheath, Lest forced his shoulders to relax, trying for a smile that ended up being more wan than reassuring. “Hello Frey,” he turned, unsurprised to find her standing a few feet off, practically glaring daggers at him.

“I swear, I take my eyes off you for one second, and you disappear where--here?” She looked past him, addressing Forte now, “Is this where he’s been going when he runs off?”

“We’ve been training,” Forte remarked simply, keeping her answer purposefully vague for Lest’s sake, he hoped.

Frey’s eyes were back on him, but this time -- worse than anger -- they were filled with a tired pleading. “Come on Lest, please? I really need you at home right now. I’ve got enough going on, I shouldn’t need to keep an eye on you all the time just to make sure you don’t run off when you get bored.”

Lest shrugged, “Sorry if the work you’re giving me is boring. And pointless. Did you know the forms you had me doing yesterday won’t be due for another month?”

“Lest,” Frey adopted that strict, mother hen tone she’d been wearing lately whenever he asked to help with the event he was supposedly co-planning. “Prove I can trust you with some simple papers, and then I would be  _ more than happy _ to let you help. But you’ve yet to even do that much.”

“Come  _ on _ , Frey. We’re supposed to be doing this together.”

“Then start acting like you actually want to do the job you’ve been given,” Frey shot back sharply.

Lest glowered, wiping the sweat from his palms distractedly on his tunic. “Why don’t  _ you _ start by--”

“Lest.” He was stopped abruptly, as Forte lay a hand firmly on his shoulder. He glanced up at her, surprised to find a stern expression turned his way, warning.

“Honestly, you’re such a child,” Frey muttered under her breath.

His head shot towards her in an instant, “Oh  _ I’m  _ the one that’s being--”

“Yes! Lest, yes!” She retorted bitterly, shocking him. “And I would really prefer to not have this conversation again! I can’t hold your hand through everything.”

After a long moment, Lest nodded firmly at her. “Understood.”

“Good.”

‘Great.”

Frey watched him, obviously still annoyed and wholly unconvinced, but after another moment she turned promptly on her heel. “Let’s get back, there’s still a lot to do.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Let me just grab my bag,” Lest mumbled, sure that Frey hadn’t even heard most of it. She continued back towards town anyway, not looking back once.

\--

Lest was, by all accounts, feeling rather miserable. And more than a little sorry for himself.

Lest sighed heavily, resting his head on his upturned palm as he stared off the top of the observation tower, eyes locked on the impossibly large tree that took up most of the view to the east.

Predictably, Frey had assigned him with more pointless busywork today. Not even really work this time either: just a bunch of paperwork and development plans (unrelated to the festival, surprise surprise) that she’d already filled out herself. He was supposed to double-check all her i’s were dotted and her t’s crossed.

And predictably, he’d fled the scene the second she’d left for a snack break.

He’d much rather mope up here than sit across from her, stewing in how little she seemed to think of his reliability, or whatever.

Gods, and then there was the topic of  _ Doug _ . He’d nearly run into him again today, on his way up here. That was the main reason Lest had wound up bolting up the tower: he’d originally intended to hide out on the airship. The dwarf was right, it really was a good place to go when you wanted to be left alone.

But he’d forgotten Doug was the one who’d given him the idea in the first place and had nearly been caught on his way across the bridge. Now he was here, still avoiding Doug, and what was sure to be a conversation filled with bitterness and disgust.

Because how else was the dwarf to feel towards him?

Lest had done nothing but antagonize him at every turn, aggravating what was already a sensitive time for Doug. He probably thought Lest had only comforted him that day as a way of manipulating him, taking advantage of Doug’s feelings for the sake of a shallow crush.

Which was entirely untrue.

But...Lest was ‘the type’, or so he’d been told. And there was no point risking heartbreak.

So, instead, he decided to sulk alone and feel sorry for himself a little more.

The quiet was pleasant in his current state, though it did nothing for the quiet tug of  _ what-ifs _ that had been rattling around the back of his mind, going wholly ignored.

One such thought surfaced now, much to his annoyance: a particularly inconvenient what if wondering whether Doug, perhaps, may not be seething with the intense hatred Lest was imagining.

_ Yeah, well, what then _ , Lest reminded the nagging voice bitterly,  _ Let’s assume he’s not furious with me. Unlikely. But what would you expect? _

Lest had...feelings for Doug. He couldn’t deny it, not now. And those existed regardless of what either of them did. Which was going to make things awkward. Even if Doug graciously decided to forget his faux pas, Lest couldn’t. And he’d likely end up slipping again, perhaps in a way that wasn’t so easily ignored.

Confronting Doug meant confronting whatever he was feeling about Doug and he had seen firsthand just how well that sort of thing had gone in the past with his roommate.

_ But what if _ \--

He sighed into his palm, grateful at least the weather had decided to cool down a bit for the day. Though, perhaps, that would have given him one more thing to be bothered about.

Lest lost himself so entirely in staring out at the cloudless sky, that he hardly noticed the other presence on the deck until they sat down next to him. He glanced up out of the corner of his eye, feeling too down on himself to particularly care whose company he was now keeping.

“Hi Forte,” he mumbled, returning his gaze ahead of him.

“Lest,” she greeted him formally, words betraying no emotion or added friendliness, but Lest knew what she meant. Forte was only stiff when she thought she needed to be.

Lest let the silence fall between them, coating his ears in a pleasant ringing. He found it was a little harder to feel isolated and down on himself with someone sitting across from him, but he could manage if he concentrated hard enough.

“I don’t see you up here often,” Forte immediately broke his focus, and with a defeated sigh, Lest turned slightly towards her.

“Yeah. Well,” it was a nonanswer, but Forte seemed to accept it, lapsing again into a numb silence. She folded her hands neatly on one knee, accompanied by the chips and clinks of her armor as it resettled against her.

“Helping run a whole town must be difficult, you deserve a break from time to time,” she remarked casually. Lest noticed the added warmth to her voice though, the gentle understanding that tugged at the heartstrings he’d been purposefully abusing these last several hours.

“It’s mostly Frey,” he admitted, “You heard her yesterday. I’m no good when it comes to all that...bureaucratic stuff.”

Forte hummed, expression clouding. Her jaw worked silently, eyes set strictly ahead of her. She cut a surprisingly severe outline against the cloudless blue of the sky, and for some reason, it comforted Lest more than any self-made isolation could.

“I hear you two are organizing quite the festival for the firefly viewing this year,” she remarked as a statement of fact. As if he’d had any part of it.

“I’m very much looking forward to it. I know Kiel is,” she smiled, despite herself, expression softening considerably. “He’s been sharing facts on local summer insect species all week.”

“You know Forte,” Lest sighed, turning his gaze to the hands folded in his lap, “I’m really not too involved with any of that, either. I haven’t exactly been--”

“Are you planning on asking anyone to the festival? I hear it’s a good opportunity to bring along a date, or so Kiel keeps telling me,” she continued in that same, calm tone of voice as if Lest had never said anything.

He had one idea, obviously, but…

“No,” Lest said, rather miserably.

Even the brief image of Doug that had been pulled to the forefront of his mind, of them going on...on a  _ date _ of all things, surrounded by tiny glowing bugs--

He had to stop that sort of thinking immediately, or the heat that had begun to flood his cheeks would become noticeable enough for Forte to make out.

She considered his answer for a long, silent moment. “You should ask him,” she finally said.

“Wh-what? What are you talking about, I-I--” Lest spluttered, face heating to his ears as he whirled on Forte.

She watched him with a small measure of amusement, which did nothing for the blush on his cheeks, now coloring with embarrassment as well.

“Don’t deny it. I’ve seen the way you look at him,” another statement of fact.

“B-but, I--  _ how _ ,” Lest managed.

She tapped a finger to her chin lightly, again thinking carefully. “You practically knocked me over in your haste to get out of his way the other day. Not to mention, your face was redder than a tomato,” she said it so straight-forward, so confidently.

“Although I did have my suspicions prior, when you started bothering him more. You have a,” and now that soft gaze was set on him, quietly endeared, “Certain strange way you like to show closeness with others.”

Lest’s mouth sputtered open and shut quickly, nonwords dribbling out of it that did nothing to defend his case.

Forte stood suddenly, patting Lest lightly on the shoulder as she passed. “You should at least try and ask him.”

“B-but, what if--” Lest cut himself off, but Forte had already paused, facing him from the top of the stairs down.

“I think you’d be surprised by his answer. Honestly,” she said firmly, before disappearing back into the tower.

Another statement of fact.


	9. Chapter 9

It had meant to be a simple trip to the blacksmith’s to pick up some polishing wax from Bado. He’d even been careful to leave right around mid-afternoon when the general store was usually the busiest.

But Lest had forgotten it was a holiday.

The moment he’d seen Doug coming down the path, not even halfway to Bado’s, Lest had hurriedly altered his course: not paying attention as he took several sharp lefts, plowing ahead and hoping Doug hadn’t caught sight of him.

By the time he’d reached Dragon Lake, Lest was so on edge he began immediately pacing the sandy strip along the edge of the water. His shoes sunk unpleasantly into the grainy ground, and bits of dust and sand kicked up behind him as he walked fiercely along.

Usually, he was able to calculate his trips around knowing Doug’s schedule, an advantage of practically stalking him for weeks. But he’d slipped, and now everything was up in the air.

That had been way too close. And now Doug could be anywhere. Simply returning to the castle wasn’t a safe option anymore.

“I’ll just wait around until nightfall.” That was ridiculous, sunset was still hours away. “I could sneak through the back of the obsidian mansion…” no way, he had no weapon. And booking it was out of the question, what with the rest of the forest still to trek beyond the building. “I could try sneaking back...carefully. Maybe hide out in Bado’s for a bit.”

_ You could just confront him and get it over with. Pretend nothing happened and hope he decides to move on _ .

No, that was clearly out of the question.

“Lest?”

He turned in an instant, nearly slipping in the tractionless sand. Lest’s eyes widened, mouth parting open around what had become quick, jagged breaths. He felt like he was sinking and his heart was beating so hard in his chest he could practically feel it in his limbs.

Apparently, he wasn’t getting a choice in the matter.

Doug stood awkwardly at the edge of the path, looking far too concerned. When their eyes met, his expression morphed into one of unshielded relief.

“Oh thank gods,” he sighed, quiet enough Lest could hardly make it out from this distance. “I thought I saw you heading this way earlier. I was worried I’d missed you.”

Lest was frozen, rooted. He couldn’t even get himself to nod, or what he wanted much more, to turn tail and maybe take his chances with the manor after all.

Doug started towards him, hands shoved loosely in his pockets. All Lest could do was stare, heart accelerating with the shrinking distance between them. His legs felt like sticks: as if the second he tried moving, they’d break and buckle under his own weight.

Doug smiled amiably, slowing to a stop. That was Lest’s first indicator something was different: his smile was edged with something else. Something almost...shy. Uncomfortable, Lest decided firmly. Awkward.

It was enough to tighten his resolve, and Lest regained enough control over his limbs to stumble back a step.

“Lest?” Doug tried again, mouth falling into a light frown at his continued silence. Even if he’d wanted to, Lest’s mouth was glued shut, tongue so thick and heavy in his mouth he doubted it would have been of much use anyway.

“I’ve been--” Doug winced, before forcing a smile that seemed much tighter than before, “Where have you been? I mean--how are you? It’s been--I haven’t seen you around the shop lately.” The second-guessing, the hesitance, none of it fit Doug. It put a bad taste in his mouth.

“I haven’t needed to buy anything,” Lest’s voice sounded mechanical. A far cry from the maelstrom of feelings buffeting his chest.

“O-oh.” Doug faltered. “I, uh. I see.” He lowered his gaze, staring at the ground as he ran a hand along the back of his neck absentmindedly. “Cause you know, I thought I might have--I mean you’ve been by so often lately, when you started not showing up I got--I guess that is to say it’s been weird.”

“Right,” Lest’s heart had jumped into his throat, beating until it buzzed dully in his skull. He saw where this was going. The awkwardness. The purposeful caution. The confrontational manner of it.

“I’ve been busy,” he said simply. Lest edged along the sand, gracefully not to Doug’s notice, prepping to make a quick escape. “Sorry.”

“I--” Doug’s eyes were on him suddenly, freezing Lest in place again with their intensity. His breath caught in his throat, but Doug pressed on as if he didn’t notice, “Are you sure? Because it sort of feels like you’ve been...avoiding me.”

_ Obviously _ , Lest thought with some ire, clamping his eyes closed tightly, desperately shutting it all out. Because he knew he’d never be able to move, to take any action against Doug, so long as he was staring out at those bright grey eyes, set so wide and wondering above lips that curled into a small, concerned frown.

“Listen, I,” Lest had to pause, taking in a deep breath before beginning to inch away again, keeping his gaze steadily on his feet. “I should really be getting back. I was only supposed to be out for a bit, and I’m already running kinda late. So--”

“Lest,” when Doug said his name it was sharp, frustrated, but edged with a soft pleading. If he called for him again, Lest knew his resolve would break down entirely and he’d be at the mercy of the undoubtedly ensuing heartbreak.

“Take care of yourself, Doug,” Lest muttered genuinely, risking one final glance at the dwarf, before breaking off into a light jog as he quickly fled from the lake and onto the paved road that led back into town.

He didn’t expect to be followed, honestly, but as he hurried past the clinic Lest caught the sound of hurried footsteps on the stone behind him, increasing their speed.

“Lest!” Doug called out behind him, “Lest, get back here, we weren’t done talking.”

“I think we were,” Lest called out despite himself, taking a sharp left up the path towards the inn, desperately trying to lose Doug before he had the chance to catch up. Just in case, he pushed his speed a little faster.

“Slow down, would you? I just want to talk!” There was only irritation in his voice when he said that, which made it all the easier for Lest as he took another sharp turn, ignoring Doug completely.

Darting quickly past the inn (and a confused looking Lin Fa), Lest almost thought he’d lost Doug, only for him to shout at him again, much closer than he’d have thought. The dwarf was faster than he looked.

“Lest, I know you’ve been avoiding me!” Doug accused harshly, his words broken up by heavy breathing as he worked to catch up. “You can’t keep hiding! You gotta talk to me eventually, you can’t just stay away from me forever!”

“Watch me,” Lest muttered under his breath, knowing Doug wouldn’t catch it.

Without warning, he took a sudden right, tearing down the dirt road that led back towards the castle. He could feel the dust kick up around his heels, but Lest severely doubted Doug was even aware of this entrance, and would probably assume he’d clambered onto the airship across the way instead.

And for a moment, all he could hear was the silence of his own heavy breathing and dull thumping of his shoes on dirt.

Then there was a crash behind him: a quick look back proving Doug had run straight into one of the bushes bordering the dirt path. He recovered quickly, to Lest’s great displeasure, continuing to call his name as he followed Lest down towards the fields.

He cursed quietly under his breath. Lest’s legs had begun to ache at this point, a dull fire lapping up the backs of them and focusing around his knees, but he continued forward regardless. Fine,  _ fine _ , he could handle this. The fields were big: and no one knew them better than Lest.

It hadn’t been enough time. Not since his mistake. Doug was right, Lest couldn’t avoid talking to him forever. But maybe with time, it would numb the ache. Fog his memory. Dull the experience enough they were both able to move past it without Lest getting his heart shattered in a shouting-fest, as Frey had.

Lest broke out into the field, every part of him on fire as he ground to a sudden stop, quickly looking for the best path of escape.

“Lest!”

Doug’s voice, far too close, spurred him back into action: and Lest made a blind choice to run towards a small cluster of cabbages to his right, in the direction of the butler’s quarters. Perhaps he could sneak into Volcanon’s office from the back and hide out in there for a while.

Besides, just past the cabbage fields stood their orchard: small, with not so many fruit trees as would have been ideal, but it would work well enough to hide him until he’d managed to slip back into the castle.

But the sprint had drained Lest, and he could already feel his pace beginning to slow as he tore through the fields, impossibly careful to miss accidentally stepping on a cabbage. Doug seemed to be overflowing with energy though, and a look back proved he was indeed managing to close some of the space between them.

Lest had barely made it past the treeline when Doug finally crashed into him, sending them both tumbling to the ground and very narrowly missing a tree.

Doug sat up first, dazed. Exhausted and out of breath, Lest struggled to his feet, but wasted no time in turning to hurry off again, hoping he might be able to make it to the castle at least.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Doug shouted, grabbing Lest harshly by the wrist and forcing him to a stop. His fingers burned into Lest’s skin, sending crackling sparks of heat up his arm. Lest shuddered, but did not turn.

“You aren’t running away this time,” Doug insisted, tightening his grip.

Lest sighed, turning to face him, acting resigned. It worked enough for Doug to begin to loosen his hold on him, but the moment he had Lest tensed up again just as suddenly, twisting his wrist free and turning quickly.

“Oh, you’re kidding,” Doug griped loudly, pushing towards Lest.

One moment, Lest was staggering forward, the next he found a solid weight barreling into him from behind. Only, to have another firm force push him from the front as Doug roughly pressed him against a tree. He let out a low, pained noise, as the rough wood pressed uncomfortably into him in several places.

“Sorry,” Doug breathed, right behind Lest now, hands pressing firmly into his shoulders to keep him in place. “But you aren’t leaving until we talk, and you’re too good at being hard to find.”

The bark of the tree rubbed roughly against Lest’s cheek, which still stung from when it had made contact with the trunk. Thankfully, Doug hadn’t pushed him too hard.

“Let me go,” Lest demanded, words muffled, his cheek squished against his face.

“I can’t,” Doug sounded genuinely sorry about this fact, but his grip didn’t lighten. That ship had sailed. “Not until I find out why you’ve been avoiding me all week.”

Lest mumbled, incoherent.

“Huh?”

“I said turn me around, so I don’t have to talk through a tree,” Lest grumbled, louder.

After a long moment, “Alright.” He sounded hesitant, but finally, Doug slowly began to angle Lest around, all the while keeping a firm grip on him. Hands now firmly on the front of his shoulders. His back still hurt from where the uneven trunk dug through the fabric of his tunic, but it was much more bearable.

Lest swallowed thickly, mind sputtering uselessly as he realized the counterintuity of his request: with their current position, Doug was forced so close to Lest their noses were hardly a few inches away. Lest could feel the heat already rising to his cheeks, blisteringly, humiliatingly.

Suddenly all his mind seemed to be able to do was supply him with image after image of them in a similar position, but with a much gentler intent, doing something far more intimate. As it was, the hands-on his shoulders were sending jolts of electricity up and down his spine.

Doug, this whole time, had been eyeing Lest warily.

“Have something to say, then say it,” Lest bit out quickly, more because he was very rapidly losing his ability for proper mental functionality than anything.

“I do,” Doug retorted, but left it there. The red of his hair glinted lightly in the dappled light of the apple tree above them, spotted with bright patches of cherry red where the sun shone through the canopy.

There were a couple of leaves, and a small twig, poking out of his effortlessly messy mop of hair: and he suddenly remembered Doug had crashed face-first into a bush earlier. It fascinated him enough, Lest hardly heard Doug speak until he’d already begun.

“Why do you keep running away from me?” Doug paused, gaze flickering away for a moment, “You did the other day too...by the airship, I saw you look over at me and run like someone had set that dumb cape of yours on fire.”

“It’s not a cape,” Lest said sourly, “And it’s not dumb.” He wasn’t able to make the last part sound so sharp.

“Why aren’t you talking to me?” Doug demanded.

“Why do you keep following me?” It was getting harder and harder to concentrate: this was the first time he’d seen Doug so close since Lest had realized what was going on with him. And Doug kept biting his lower lip, in clear frustration. The act was so completely adorable, and distracting, and Lest couldn’t stop thinking suddenly about how soft those lips must feel.

He’d almost found out, the other night.

“You’ve been acting weird lately,” Lest’s eyes flitted back to Doug’s as he spoke, worried for his own self-control as Doug’s mouth formed a small pout.

He shrugged, “I’ve been told I’m weird most days. By you, actually. On several occasions.”

Doug winced. “You know what I mean. Stranger than...usual. I just--the other night, when we were at the store--”

Oh gods, there it was.

“What?” Lest cut him off sharply, not caring how viciously mocking his tone was. “I can’t decide I need some time to myself? I’ve got my own life too, you know. Are you saying I should  _ keep _ bothering you?” He scoffed, surprised to find that the excuses kept tumbling from his mouth effortlessly.

“Weren’t you the one telling me to knock it off and leave you alone? I very distinctly remember you insisting I’d been ‘dragging things out’. And now that I finally stopped antagonizing you, you what, pin me to a tree and ask why I’m not doing the  _ exact thing _ you told me to knock off?”

“That’s not what I--” Doug huffed, frustration slowly mounting to anger, “That doesn’t mean you have to start  _ avoiding _ me!”

“Avoiding you? How self-centered are you?” Lest laughed. The noise was without humor. It caused a deep scowl to form on Doug’s face. Good. It was better they got out the anger now, get this whole thing over with sooner, since avoiding it seemed pointless now.

“I let things go back to normal, you’re the one that’s getting hung up on it.  _ I’ve _ just been minding my own business, it’s not my fault if you can’t stand being on your own. Not everything’s about you, Doug.” He’d give Doug a chance to leave, to hate him for something enough to not come searching for him again, to keep that difficult conversation about their almost-kiss at bay.

Doug’s face hardened, mouth setting in a tight line. “I’m not wrong. This is your own problem, it has nothing to do with me.” He didn’t even yell, speaking evenly. Somehow, it hit worse. “You’re the one that--”

“Come on Doug, take a hint,” Why wasn’t he leaving? He’d insulted him pretty personally, and Doug wasn’t known for his even temper. Why did he insist on making this so much slower, more painful, than it needed to be? “Do you think maybe you haven’t been able to find me for a reason?”

Doug opened his mouth, but promptly shut it again, eyes flaring with resigned understanding. “This isn’t about me,” he obviously had more to say, but the thought hung unfinished in the air, Doug’s jaw working as he fought with his next words.

“No, it’s not,” Lest said evenly, not giving him the chance. “Did you really think, what, that I’d start  _ liking _ you more after this? I’m only letting things go back to how they were, and you’re an idiot if you thought it meant anything else when you told me to leave you alone.” The words tasted foul on his tongue. They were despicable, he knew, but necessary.

Why wasn’t he leaving?

“You’re a real jackass, you know that?” Doug’s voice was fierce, angry, but quiet. His shoulders shook, hands gripping tighter into the fabric of Lest’s dumb cape. “Fine, if that’s what you want. I think I liked it better when you were avoiding me anyway.”

“Good.”

“Fine,” Doug released him forcefully, grating his back against the tree again. He’d turned in a flash, marching angrily away and off down the field.

Lest slumped against the tree, completely drained. His eyes trailed Doug’s receding form, his hair lighting up like a beacon among all the green, before he finally disappeared back up the dirt road and out of sight.

He never looked back, never second-guessed, and that was good. It was better he hated him for sharp words, that might one day be excused. The distance was good too: it would give them both time to get over each other (a much steeper task in Lest’s case).

It was the right thing to do.

So why did he feel so hollow?

\--

The sun had pulled much lower in the sky, nearly touching the horizon, by the time Lest finally picked himself up and slumped back inside the castle. The time had passed in a blur: his thoughts having firmly shut themselves off in favor of a blissful, if not a bit melancholic, white buzz that matched the pitch and tone of the cicadas in the field.

It was hard to regret doing something you’d known from the start was meant to be hurtful, but Lest was managing.

So the very last thing he needed right then was a cross-looking Frey storming up to him the second he was in the door, harsh accusation written clear on her face.

“Where have you been?” She demanded, faltering only a moment as her eyes raked over Lest. He couldn’t imagine he looked great, between his run across town earlier and then sitting under a tree the whole afternoon. She seemed to misinterpret his low energy as exhaustion, however, as she threw her hands up in frustration. “You’ve been in the fields all day again,” it was a statement of fact more than a question. She wasn’t technically wrong.

“Not tonight, Frey,” he mumbled, impossibly tired. He was so drained already, he really didn’t have the strength to get into it again.

“Are you serious?” She sounded offended, astounded. Lest was too tired to care. He walked straight past her, making towards his bedchamber. She cut him off quickly, standing firmly in the doorway with her arms crossed tightly over her chest and expression twisted accusingly.

“Can I get to my bedroom, please?” he mumbled.

“Lest, you’ve been gone all day without a word, although I guess I shouldn’t be surprised there. It’s all you seem to do these days: disappear and leave me with all of your work,” she huffed.

“Like anything you have me doing is important anyways,” Lest muttered with mounting frustration. Couldn’t she see this was not the night for this? He couldn’t imagine he looked all that great.

“And can you  _ possibly _ think of why that is?” She demanded, “If I gave you anything that actually needed to be done, nothing would happen around here! You’d get bored, and slink off to go mess around in the fields or play with swords.”

Really starting to get ticked off now, Lest could feel a bit of energy return to him. “You admit you’ve been giving me busy work then?” He remarked, incredulous. “If you’re so capable of running the town on your own anyways, what does it matter what I do?”

“Because it’s your  _ job _ Lest. Arthur trusted us with the duty of keeping Selphia running, and you’ve never taken that seriously, not since day one.”

“I have,” Lest huffed, defensive. He placed his hands on his hips, irritation grating against his throat, “I’ve just been feeling...off, recently. And it’s not like you’ve been making it any better by pushing me out! Cut me a break, would you?”

“Lest, I  _ have _ been, but you haven’t even put in the effort to try, can’t you see how frustrating that is for me?” She demanded hotly, “It’s not like I’m a fan of paperwork either, but it’s my  _ job _ and it’s  _ necessary _ . Why can’t you see that?”

“Well, maybe I’m not as good with all that as you, alright? I tried plenty, if it didn’t meet your standards that’s not my problem! Sorry, I’m only good at ‘playing around with swords’,” he parroted harshly, his head swimming with red.

“Lest, this sort of thing isn’t fun for anyone. It’s work, and real work is supposed to be difficult. Sometimes you need to just push through it and do what you need to for the greater good,” Frey’s lower lip jutted out as she spoke, eyes hardening, “We aren’t kids anymore, Lest, and we can’t just run around fighting monsters and pretending it’s enough! So you need to grow up and start pulling your weight, like an adult.”

“You keep acting like everything we did wasn’t worth anything,” Lest countered bitterly.

“And  _ you _ keep acting like Ventuswill isn’t gone,” she cut deeply. The name sent a cold, near-dead chill up Lest’s spine, settling heavily in his throat. “There’s no one that needs saving anymore Lest. Get over yourself and grow up.”

He tried responding, but the heavy feeling in his throat had grown sticky like honey, and it was clogging his airflow.

“Listen, if you want to mess around all day instead of being useful, fine,” Frey muttered sharply, voice quiet now, “But don’t pretend it’s my fault.”

He could only stand there numbly, every inch of him weighed down and cumbersome by something infinitely worse than the hollowness that had overcome him before. He barely registered when Frey unblocked his path, marching purposefully away. A door slammed shut firmly behind him as she left.

Lest turned, numbly, bracing his head against the cool stone of the wall. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be angry with Frey. It wasn’t untrue. But it was unfair: her expecting him to feel passionate about his work in the castle when all she did was patronize him. Couldn’t she see this wasn’t due to irresponsibility or laziness? He had his own issues.

And Lest was fairly certain Frey had crossed a line there.

Why’d Frey have to bring  _ her _ into this?

They never spoke about the incident, about the events that followed the defeat of Ethelberd, and the restoration of peace in the kingdom. It was their unspoken rule: something that was too difficult for either of them to confront, so they just let it be.

She must really think he’d messed things up if she was using such an old sting as leverage against him.

“Today sucked,” he mumbled to the wall, thumping his head lightly against it. He wished he’d never gotten out of bed this morning: it had only been one disaster after another.

No...if he’d done that, Frey just would have yelled at him some more, surely. He--

Lest’s thoughts were harshly interrupted by a loud slam behind him. He whirled around in an instant, surprise coating him enough to temporarily drive out the heavier feelings that had settled in. Frey stood in the open doorway, silhouetted against the dim light of early evening. Lest’s throat tightened, preparing for another fight, but the expression of anxious desperation on Frey’s face froze him.

“What happened,” he was on his feet in an instant, rushing towards Frey with a similar, worried look.

“Blossom,” she gasped, apparently out of breath, her shoulders shaking as she spoke. Lest placed his hands gently on her, looking her over with deep concern. “She--she’s collapsed, outside the castle.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Where is she?” Lest demanded, following Frey as she ran back outside. Their dispute wholly forgotten, Frey led Lest towards the edge of the plaza, by the steps that led down towards the general store.

As they drew closer, Lest spotted a shadowy lump on the ground, hard to distinguish as anyone in particular in the fading light. But it was draped in Blossom’s camisole, and standing right above her it was clear the kind, older woman had collapsed forward onto the ground.

He was down on his knees in an instant, doing his best to gently flip her over onto her back.

“She’s got a pulse,” Frey muttered urgently, joining Lest on the other side of Blossom. “But she’s not responsive, and her breathing’s pretty shallow. We need to get her to the clinic.”

Lest nodded. There was no dispute there.

Carefully, and with quite a bit of assistance from Frey, he managed to get his arms underneath her, picking up Blossom with a small grunt of effort. She wasn’t particularly heavy, but right now she was a dead weight. Thankfully, once he’d gotten her off the ground Frey wrapped her arms around his, taking some of the strain off.

They needed to get to the clinic quickly: there wasn’t any time to be fumbling around encumbered in the dark.

Slowly, they began to make their way across the plaza, shuffling forward as fast as either of them dared with such fragile cargo. They didn’t speak: concentrating on the task at hand. Their heavy, panting breaths mingled above Blossom, and several times Frey or him needed to stop and readjust their grip.

It couldn’t have been very long when they finally saw the pale orange glow of light seeping out from under the clinic doors, but definitely enough time to worry about Blossom’s continued unconsciousness.

Carefully, shifting Blossom to mostly rest in Frey’s arms, Lest reached out and shoved the handle of the clinic open, pushing inside into the bright room: immediately assaulted by the smell of menthol and the specific, herb-y odor of healing potions.

Jones spotted them first: rushing to Lest and Frey’s side the moment he set his eyes on Blossom, quickly followed by Nancy.

“Oh dear,” Nancy murmured, brow creasing in clear concern, “Bring her over here, come on then, set her down. Gently, gently.” Her voice was urgent, but kind, as she smoothed out the white sheets on one of the medical cots.

Lest and Frey each took one side, lowering Blossom gently down. She looked far too pale, almost ashen, especially under the enhanced brightness of the lamps in the clinic. Something painful twisted in Lest’s chest: he could see what Doug had meant, when he’d voiced his concerns the other day about watching her sleep.

“What happened?” Jones demanded firmly, but not unkindly, as he drew the stethoscope from his neck and lifted it to his ears. Lest and Frey quickly made way for the doctor, as he leaned over Blossom and moved the small disk of metal over her chest.

“Frey found her, collapsed outside the plaza by the castle. She hasn’t woken up since,” Lest supplied, worry eating through him slowly. He chewed his lower lip.

“She was already unconscious when I found her. I’m not sure how long she’d been there,” Frey filled in quietly.

Nancy quietly excused herself as she pressed past Lest, standing opposite from Jones. She had a small vial of purple liquid in one hand, but she set it down on the bedside stand, instead watching Jones with obvious concern.

His brow furrowed, mouth forming a tight frown as he pulled back, replacing the scope around his neck. He lifted one of her hands into his, turning it over gently. His frown deepened as he noted the scrapes on her palms, all puckering a dark liquid. Lest hadn’t even noticed the cuts on her hands.

There were similar ones on her other hand, as well as parts of her leg.

“It looks like she took a fall,” Jones addressed Nancy directly, glancing at her only briefly.

“I told her not to leave the house until she was feeling better,” Nancy bemoaned quietly to herself. She sighed, turning on Frey and Lest suddenly, who both straightened. “One of you had better go and get Doug, he’ll want to be here for Blossom.”

“I’ll--”

“I can do it,” Lest volunteered quickly without much thought, accidentally cutting off Frey.

The next moment, he realized just what he’d agreed to do. Stupid, he’d agreed without hesitation. Was he really so desperate to see the dwarf again already, after everything he’d said just to keep him away that afternoon?

No, he reminded himself, this wasn’t about his and Doug’s petty squabble. This was about Blossom.

Frey shot him a severe look.

“You should stay here anyways,” he filled in, “You’re better with healing magic than me, if it comes to that.”

With a curt nod, he turned quickly and hurried out of the clinic.

The moment he’d broken into the cooling air of evening, Lest broke into a jog, trying hard not to think about what he was going to say when he got there. Because he was decently certain Doug wouldn’t want to talk to him long enough for him to get out his message.

Gods, he really should have thought this through better.

So instead he thought about Frey: she’d been about to offer to get the dwarf. It was strange, but in all this he’d forgotten that this whole mess started with a love confession. How ironic.

Had she wanted to get Doug so she could play the martyr? So he’d be grateful to her? That must be it: he hadn’t paid it much mind before, but when he’d interrupted her, she’d seemed distinctly put out that he’d been the one to volunteer instead.

Too soon, he found himself standing outside the general store, once again debating whether or not he should go in. This time, his hesitation had far less precarious grounds. But he really didn’t have time to beat himself up over a conversation that hadn’t happened yet: he was here to get Doug.

Lest pushed the door open, grateful to find it unlocked. Doug had been leaning against the counter, flipping through the pages of a thin, leather-bound book. When he glanced up to Lest, who’s breath was still ragged and hair a mess from the jog over, his expression was initially surprised.

It hardened almost instantly, however. “What do you want?” He asked harshly.

“It’s Blossom,” Lest breathed haggardly.

His demeanor changed in an instant: concern replacing everything else on his face as Doug rose too quickly from the counter. He was out the door following Lest in the next moment, letting him lead him to the clinic without another word.

Lest was too focused on getting back to Frey and Blossom, as well pushing past the dull ache that had resumed in his legs, to think about anything other than getting Doug to the clinic as fast as he could.

Doug charged in ahead of him, leaving Lest to quickly catch the swinging oak door that nearly slammed in his face.

Lest joined Frey inside, standing next to her as she leaned against the wall opposite the cot. Doug had taken Nancy’s place by Blossom’s side, on his knees as he held one of her hands in both of his. She appeared to have woken up, which Lest noted with huge relief, her head propped up behind her on a small stack of pillows. Doug spoke quietly to her, his urgent whispers occasionally catching Lest’s attention but otherwise unintelligible.

Occasionally she would respond, though Lest couldn’t hear a peep from Blossom, her lips moved slowly around words that seemed to take a little bit of the edge off Doug.

He really did care for her, didn’t he. Doug wasn’t quite straightforward about most things, and yet was paradoxically blunt in almost everything else. He’d act as loud and brazen as a child at times, yet he never dwelled too long on his own emotions. And he could keep a secret.

But this all fell away when it came to Blossom: it was clear he cared for her a great deal, having no qualms in showing it.

“You’re making a weird face,” Frey remarked cooly without turning, startling Lest.

Jolting, he shook his head, realizing at some point a soft smile had parted his lips. He schooled it quickly.

“Did you manage to find out what was wrong with her?” He asked, peering at her curiously. She still didn’t turn to look at him, “I mean I know she’s been...ill. Did it have anything to do with that.”

After a moment, Frey nodded. Expression still set firmly ahead, Lest followed it to find she was tracking Doug, watching the shock of red against white bob and lean as he talked with Blossom and Jones intermittently.

“Apparently she’s got something nasty in her lungs,” Frey elaborated, finally glancing over at Lest. Her expression was unreadable, but for now, her tone was light. “Not supposed to be walking around too much. She apparently passed out due to a lack of proper oxygen flow, and collapsed after. Jones was impressed she made it far enough for that to be an issue, actually.” She turned back to look at the cot.

“You missed it,” she closed her eyes lightly, leaning her head against the plaster, “They had to give her a potion that forced her breathing for a few minutes. Pretty unpleasant, but...at least she’s awake.”

“Yeah…” Lest’s memory flashed to the small vial of bruise-colored liquid on the bedside stand. He shuddered. He’d definitely gotten the easier job, then.

Lest was concerned about Blossom, truly, but she did seem to be doing a lot better now. And there was only so much longer he could watch Frey send these soft...sympathetic glances at Doug before he needed to step out.

It was fully dark outside by now, but the air hung warm and humid around Lest. Fireflies blinked in and out lazily around him as he lowered himself to the ground, leaning his back against the side of the clinic.

Lest felt completely drained.

He’d been running around town all day it seemed, in the middle of a heat wave no less. And more than that, there’d been enough drama in one afternoon to fill at least a month. It brought back that same, hollow feeling to his chest as he thought back on it.

So instead, Lest did his best not to think: tilting his head back and letting his eyes slide shut as he listened carefully to the cicadas and the trickling of the small stream that ran by the clinic.

Lest hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep, until he was jolted awake suddenly by a hand gently shaking his shoulder.

Dazed, he blinked his eyes open blearily to find Frey standing above him, long ponytails dangling over her shoulder and waving slightly in the warm summer breeze. “Sorry,” she said quietly, retracting her hand. “But I really don’t think the ground’s most comfortable place to doze off.”

It was true: as Lest tried to position himself to sit more upright, he felt a dull ache throb at the base of his spine. He winced. “No, not really.”

“Hey uh,” Frey faltered. Lest glanced up at her curiously, a bit surprised by the gentle concern in her voice. He tilted his head, hoping silence was enough of an invitation to continue. “I just wanted to apologize to you. For earlier,” Frey sighed, meeting his gaze quickly, hands folding lightly in front of her.

“Oh,” a mixture of surprise and grogginess kept him from saying anything more.

“I was in the wrong, with...what I said earlier, about Ventuswill? That wasn’t cool. She’s…” Frey visibly winced at this, hands fidgeting around themselves, “I know it’s been hard on both of us. And it’s not like I don’t appreciate your part in what happened, but I’ve just been...overworked, lately. I still wish you’d--no, we can talk about that later. For now, I just wanted to say sorry. For letting it go too far. I was out of place.”

Lest blinked, still a bit in shock at the out of the blue apology, but honestly more touched than anything. “I...thank you,” he breathed, meaning it fully. “That means a lot, Frey.”

She nodded, giving him one last, long glance, before swiftly turning away. “Well, I’m going to head back to the castle now. It’s already getting pretty late.”

“Right,” Lest glanced at the cobblestone. A firefly flitted slowly across his view. “I think I’m going to stay here a little while longer. Just in case they need an extra pair of hands or...just to make sure she’s doing okay,” he admitted.

Frey nodded, the look in her eyes telling she understood. “Goodnight, Lest,” she called softly, a wan smile parting her face as she left back the way they’d come.

“Goodnight,” he said softly. She’d already started up the stairs back though, so he doubted she heard him.

Lest sighed, leaning forward into the palms of his hands as his eyes slid shut. That was definitely...unexpected. It’s not like he and Frey had never argued before, sometimes their personalities just naturally clashed at times, but they’d been on edge around each other a lot more than usual lately. So he hadn’t been expecting an apology, not to mention such a genuine one unprompted.

She’d sounded so...mature, too. She’d acknowledged her own mistakes, and didn’t demand anything from Lest. Perhaps she’d been right earlier. Rude or not, Frey had surely proven herself time over how responsible she was. And what had Lest done?

Antagonized her. Her...crush. Skipped out on work.

Maybe he should have taken the chance to apologize too. Would that have been the mature thing to do? Tell her he was sorry: for messing things up so poorly lately. She’d still seemed upset about it when she’d talked to him though: perhaps her forgiveness wouldn’t be so easily earned as a quick apology.

Much later, after the lights had begun to go out in the windows of the houses around him, the door to the clinic cracked open. Lest sat up immediately, having started to doze off again. His back and shoulders weren’t going to be thanking him in the morning.

Doug slouched out a moment later, shoulders weighed down and expression weary. He looked like he could really use a nap.

“Going home?” Lest asked, careful to keep his tone casual. Doug started, glancing quickly over at Lest. He turned his gaze away from Doug, hoping that with it those pesky, prickly feelings in his chest would go away as well.

“Nah, just needed some air.” Doug sighed heavily. He appeared suddenly at the wall next to Lest, leaning sturdily against it and sliding down until he’d hit the ground. The (justifiable) malice he’d shown earlier had all but disappeared. Lest kept his eyes strictly ahead, trying desperately not to feel the heat from how close Doug sat beside him.

“Well, actually, Nancy kicked me out,” he grumbled, obviously irritated he couldn’t be back in there with Blossom. Lest, unable to help himself, risked a glance. Doug’s elbows hung loosely off his knees, his head leaned back against the worn brick.

“How is she doing?” Lest asked with genuine concern.

“Better,” he mumbled, angling his head to the side. “She’s asleep right now though. But she’s...breathing better at least.” His brow furrowed, eyes angling down as he lost himself briefly in worry.

“She’ll get better, Doug,” Lest assured, watching him earnestly.

Doug met his gaze for a half second, the worry slowly dissolving from his face. It was replaced with a tenuous exhaustion. “Yeah, hope so.”

He thought Doug looked like he might want to say more, but seemed to decide against it, instead releasing a thin breath through his teeth. They sat in silence for a while, Lest watching the dark shape of the bushes across the way shuffle and shift in the light breeze, fighting a bit to keep his eyes open.

“Hey,” Doug interrupted suddenly, “I, uh, wanted to thank you.” When Lest looked over, Doug had turned away sheepishly. “Nancy told me what you two did, carrying Blossom all the way to the clinic. Seriously, that’s a big deal, I really wanna thank you for it. I just,” his expression pinched, “I wish I could’ve been there, I had no idea she’d even gone outside, must’ve snuck past me at some point…”

Lest watched Doug carefully. He gazed back, expression strangely unreadable but clearly pained. “Hey, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah I...I know. It still doesn’t feel great that I wasn’t around to help,” Doug glanced off, running a hand along the back of his neck and up his jaw, settling on his cheek. “And if you two hadn’t been there, things could’ve been...bad.”

“Well, she’s alright now. That’s what matters,” Lest comforted, hesitating only a moment before lightly patting Doug on the shoulder. He sighed, but didn’t respond. After another moment, “It’s been a long day.” Lest let out a breathy, humorless chuckle.

“No kidding,” Doug mulled. “Hey, mind if I ask you something?”

Lest stirred, doing his best not to visibly stiffen. There were a lot of troublesome ‘somethings’ that he really didn’t want to deal with right now. “Shoot.”

“You didn’t...you don’t really hate me, do you?” He sounded oddly warry saying this, as if he were worried about what the answer would be.

“Of course not,” Lest whirled on him suddenly, eyes fierce, only to startle Doug. He set his face into a careful reassurance, but didn’t break away. “I...no,” he covered with less intensity, “I don’t hate you, Doug. I just…”

Doug’s eyes were doing that  _ thing _ again. Churning, following Lest, strangely focused in a way that was wholly unreadable to him. Strange, as the dwarf was pretty much the definition of an open book.

“Was it something I did?” He breathed, sounding genuinely pained.

Lest startled at that. Something  _ he _ did? Was he serious? Like any of this hadn’t been Lest’s fault from the beginning. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lest remarked, flipping his head back.

“The reason you’ve been avoiding me, I...it was just so out of the blue, ya know? Like we’d just started really getting along, er well I thought so anyways. But then suddenly you’re running away from me? That…” Doug paused, and Lest could almost hear him struggle with the thought, “I assumed I must have done something that offended you.”

Lest was completely lost. How had Doug thought this was  _ his  _ fault? The way he was talking, it sounded like Lest had never tried to kiss him at all.

Could it be he hadn’t noticed? Lest had been pretty obvious, but then again, this was  _ Doug _ .

_ But then again, what if he did notice, and he just-- _

Lest cut off that train of thought immediately before it could travel anywhere too dangerous. He was not going to allow himself the false hope.

“I’ve been thinking a lot, back at the store, and in there too,” Doug started suddenly, his voice low. “I don’t think you meant what you said back in the field. Not really. I think you’re just...I dunno, it’s stupid. But I can’t believe that’s how you feel.”

“What?” Lest probed, watching Doug’s reactions curiously. Strangely guarded, and yet leaking that same vulnerability he’d witnessed on the airship. It sent a pang of intense emotion racing up his throat.

“You just seemed kinda, er, frightened I guess,” Doug admitted finally, with a low hiss of breath. “Like when I confronted you, before you went off on me, it was like I had you at sword point. You just looked  _ scared _ . And I think maybe that’s why you started acting like a jackass.”

Lest’s eyes widened a fraction, a bit surprised at the astute observation, particularly because Doug hadn’t ever been one to get hung up on little details. He must have really been paying attention, then.

Lest didn’t respond right away, not quite knowing how to in all honesty, and was surprised when Doug held his gaze, burning him through with that intense gray stare. “You’re right,” he said finally.

Doug blinked, watching him strangely, before melting into a soft chuckle, seeming overly amused with himself. Lest sent him a sharp look, but that seemed to only make him laugh harder.

“What?” He demanded.

“Never thought I’d hear that from  _ you _ ,” Doug grinned good-naturedly.

“I...I can admit I’m wrong sometimes, you know,” Lest retorted harshly. At least, he was trying to. Doug wasn’t making this easy. He thought quickly back to how Frey had done it. “But you’re right, I was being a jerk. Not just this afternoon, this whole time. I, gods, I feel like all I’ve been doing lately is apologizing to you for something. I haven’t been fair to you, and I’m sorry, alright?”

He shook his head, letting out a small, bitter sound. “Though I guess I can’t even do that right. Frey was the one who forced me to go apologize last time, I don’t know if I told you. I wasn’t even aware enough to acknowledge there was an issue to start with, she had to hold my hand through all of it. Or well, give me a firm shove might be the better analogy. But...no, to answer your question Doug, none of this has been your fault. Honestly, I’m sorry for dragging you down into my own issues.”

If Doug really hadn’t picked up on Lest’s feelings for him...then he supposed, it might be okay, if he were allowed to set things right between them.

“Hey man, don’t beat yourself up too bad,” Doug turned to him, a concerned desperation overlaying his voice. “Don’t look like that, it’s all cool now between us, right?”

Lest looked up curiously, wondering what his expression might look like to warrant the obvious worry in Doug’s eyes. “I won’t blame you if you don’t want to be friends, I haven’t been fair to you.”

He shook his head firmly, “Come on, could you drop the whole self-deprecating shit already? It doesn’t fit you at all. Sorta weirding me out.”

Lest blanched. “Excuse me?”

“No, yeah, it’s unsettling. You, ah, what you said really wasn’t cool,” he ran a hand through his hair, the strands briefly catching the waning light from the window of the clinic and flashing a bright red. “But you obviously feel bad about it, and didn’t really even mean anything by it anyways, so...we’re all good, okay? You can stop looking like you’re gonna start crying or something.”

“Im not--” Lest stopped, taking in a deep breath. “Okay. If you’re willing to move on, I can too.” He deflated, but Doug seemed satisfied with the conclusion.

That had been...surprisingly cathartic.

It felt like a great weight had been lifted from his chest, one that had been pulsing and growing there since it’d set that night in the general store. If apologies always felt this relieving, Lest might have tried them out sooner.

“Anyway,” Doug turned, apparently eager to change the subject. Lest couldn’t blame him. “You missed it, cause you were acting weird and all, but a couple birds got into the store the other day. Took down a whole shelf.”

Lest snorted, happy for the distraction. “How’d you let them do that?”

“You think I invited them in or something?” Doug demanded, a stubborn pout forming on his lips. Lest smiled as some of the warmth in his chest gently pushed up his face.

“Of course you’d be the one to let them into your own store.”

“They attacked me! It wasn’t fair, it was two to one. Took me all afternoon to chase the stupid things out, too,” Doug grumbled. “Amber ended up having to come in and help, in the end. Though she almost did more damage than the birds.”

“They were probably drawn to that flashy hair of yours, cherry-top,” Lest smirked.

“H-hey, c’mon now,” Doug muttered obstinately. Then, looking worried, he pulled a strand of hair down in front of his face, tugging it gently. “You don’t think my hair looks that bad, do you?”

Lest chuckled, just at how suddenly self-conscious Doug was over his hair color. Couldn’t he see how perfectly it suited him? “Nah, it’s fine. I can just see why it’d attract birds though, it’s a very--”  _ cute color _ . He’d barely caught himself in time. Lest cleared his throat loudly, ignoring the confused look that flashed across Doug’s face as he spluttered slightly. “It’s so shiny I can’t believe this hasn’t happened before now.” It was half-hearted, but seemed to cover just fine.

Doug pouted, but apparently found the comment ordinary enough he was satisfied to continue. It seemed their conversation had been as much a weight off Doug’s shoulders as it had been Lest’s: he spoke freely, gesturing and pitching his voice a bit too loudly for the late time of night. He was obviously in a much better mood.

Lest watched him reverently as he spoke. If Doug didn’t suspect anything, how much harm could a little staring do? And Doug just lit up so brightly when he got invested in a story like this: gesturing with his hands as he spoke eagerly, glancing cheerfully at Lest from time to time. Or shooting him a good-natured frown or pout if Lest made some snippy comment.

Talking with Doug like this, without the pretense of annoying him or avoiding him, it was...shockingly nice. And he was getting so many new expressions to log away. Lest was left wondering how he’d ever been satisfied with just the few.

They’d been talking so long, Lest hardly noticed it when the lightning bugs around them began to wink out and the sky fade from a deep navy to a paler hue.

“Oh gods, I don’t think I want to know the time,” Lest groaned a bit, watching the sky rapidly lighten.

Doug shrugged. “Late. Or, early, I guess.” It really didn’t seem to bother him.

“I think I’m going to pass out the second I get back,” Lest let out a small, rueful moan, “Frey’s going to kill me for skipping out on work again today.”

“Oh yeah, you two are working on that...festival thing coming up, right? Kiel was bothering me with the details the other day,” he sighed, gaze turned up.

Lest hummed. “Her more than me.” Apology or not, nothing had changed that. “She mostly has me doing busy work these days.”

“Man, that sounds way better. I’d hate being under all that pressure,” Doug admitted, to Lest’s subtle surprise. “Now you can just focus on enjoying yourself at the festival!”

It was hard to feel down about the situation, not when Doug was giving him such an open, earnest look. “I suppose so,” he said with a faint smile.

There was a look of hesitation on Doug’s face, before he finally asked, “So, planning to ask anyone? I mean, that’s what I heard you’re s’posed to do. Kiel told me. I was just curious.”

Lest was surprised by the question, looking curiously at Doug. But he’d turned away from him. 

“Actually,” Lest trailed off. Doug glanced at him quickly, but said nothing, even as Lest fought with his answer. He chewed the inside of his cheek, mind drifting back to his conversation with Forte the other day on the tower. She’d said he might be surprised by Doug’s answer but…he’d only just gotten the dwarf back as a friend, it seemed too big a risk. He couldn’t ask for more.

“No, I’m not,” he decided finally, deflating a bit. He didn’t watch for Doug’s reaction, focusing on keeping his own beating heart from leaping out of his chest.

He considered, was more tempted really, to ask Doug the same. But instead he stood, brushing himself off and wincing at the pain in his lower back. No matter the answer, he didn’t think he had the energy at the moment to control his response. Lest excused himself tiredly, and Doug let him go.

He didn’t think he could handle the answer right then, no matter what it was. His brain was already too tired to filter itself, and Lest was worried he might have ended up saying something stupid. Like asking Doug to go with him as his date.

So instead, he slunk back to the castle in silence as the sun steadily warmed the back of his neck on its journey up the horizon.


	11. Chapter 11

Things had been...tight, at the castle since his and Frey’s fight the other day. And with the festival only several days away, Frey seemed so high strung and overworked that she didn’t even bother getting on Lest’s case most of the time. Even if she was taking a much gentler approach to her scoldings these days.

Eager to avoid the war path, Lest ended up spending much of his afternoons hanging around the general store, hanging around and bothering Doug between his other work in the fields. With Frey otherwise preoccupied, he’d taken up the mantle of caring for the whole plot himself, which had insofar meant a lot of pulling up cabbage heads.

It was...nice, getting to spend time around Doug. Although he acted irritated about Lest “distracting” him during work, he otherwise seemed at the least content with the situation.

Normally they just sat in companionable silence as Doug helped customers or restocked shelves, but today had been slow. Doug had decided to do inventory, and Lest leaned back against a shelf of autumn produce seeds as he watched Doug move around the store, clipboard in hand as he checked off items one after another.

Regrettably, the prolonged exposure alone with Doug in the store had done nothing to dilute Lest’s (now bordering) ridiculous reaction any time he stared at the dwarf too long. He could already feel his heartbeat rising, throat clogging as Doug bent down to log some baking ingredients on a lower shelf.

It was a little unfair, actually, how adorable Lest found the concentrated little pout on Doug’s face as he counted bags of flour.

Lest cleared his throat, a meager attempt to dispel his thoughts. “I sent out a shipment of cabbage this morning,” he remarked casually, quickly having to turn away as Doug glanced back at him, heat rising to his cheeks. Lest was a total mess, honestly, what was wrong with him? “Vishnal said he’d drop them off to you guys in the next couple days,” he hid the crack in his voice with a small cough.

Doug, oblivious as he was, didn’t appear to find anything wrong with the spluttering manner with which Lest delivered a painfully plain statement. Instead, he glanced back down at his clipboard, shrugged, and stood up fully.

“Cool. Porcoline promised to make me some pickled cabbage, to put on rice you know? If I brought him a few heads,” Doug deposited the clipboard on the counter, leaning back against it so he was facing Lest.

“Porcoline?” Lest asked with forced curiosity, taking the distraction.

Doug shrugged again, “Sure. That stupid horse told him how lousy a cook I was, ‘nd how Blossom’s been too sick to help with anything, and he’s sorta been helping with the cooking a bit.” Doug chewed his lip, pausing a moment, “At least the idiot’s not useless all the time.”

Watching Doug get so worked up over his self-proclaimed “rival”, clear resentment turning down his mouth but a reluctant fondness softly crinkling his eyes, was incredibly endearing. Despite what he said, it was clear Doug cared for Dylas, and was genuinely grateful to him.

“Oh come on, Dylas is a pretty good guy,” Lest goaded, “You should really give him more of a chance.”

“No way,” Doug snapped angrily. “Don’t tell me you’re buying into his horse shit now too. Man, that guy’s such a suck up!”

“No, really. I know Frey’s very fond of him as well. You know, you were just saying the other day I’ve been ‘lazing around’ the store too much, maybe I should go visit him instead one of these days,” Lest mused, pretending to really consider it. This caused almost immediate worry to flash across Doug’s face, to his own great satisfaction.

Lest laughed, releasing some of the light, warm feeling that had been building in his chest. “Alright, alright, if you’re going to pout about it I’ll just keep bugging you here,” Lest grinned, pushing lightly off the shelf.

This caused Doug’s ears to tint a slight pink, as he turned immediately defensive. “Like I care what you do! I’d be more than happy if you went and distracted carrot-brain all day instead of me, it’d serve him right.”

“Oh?” Lest teased, stopping right in front of Doug and clasping his hands behind his back with a small smile, “Do you really find me that ‘distracting’?”

Doug stared at him blankly a moment, expression unreadable, before quickly clamping down again. “And irritating,” he hissed, his voice having risen a pitch. “And way too smug. Oh, and loud.”

“You’re the one nearly shouting right now, though,” Lest reminded him with an impish look.

“I’m not,” he countered, a bit too sharply, only proving Lest’s point. Doug seemed to realize this as well, flushing a bit pinker, and turning away. “Well, you’re not doing anything for your case either you know, you’re acting like a little shit and you  _ know _ it.”

Lest hummed, tilting his head towards Doug, “Never said I was trying for anything else. You’re the one that decides to put up with me.” Lest sighed then, amping up the dramatics, “Though if you’re so bothered by it, I guess I could always find someone else to bother. I wonder what Dylas’s schedule’s like--”

“No!” Doug spluttered, immediately drawing Lest’s attention. Upon seeing the cheshire grin on his face, Doug’s expression hardened again, “I mean, you’re irritating as hell, but I never said I wanted you to...leave.”

“Hm,” Lest angled closer, watching Doug’s eyes as they ran across his face. His expression was like that of a cornered animal, stubbornly defiant. “I guess I can stick around for a bit then, if you’re so insistent,” Lest muttered quietly.

Close, close, too close.

Lest forced himself to move away slowly, having been entirely oblivious as he’d been once again making the fatal error of leaning towards Doug. Stupid, he’d nearly made such a blatant, fatally condemning mistake.

Nerves still buzzing, Lest fought to hold his ground, leaning only slightly away. Doug was still rooted to the counter. “Anyway,” he forced out casually, picking at the front of his tunic in a way he hoped wasn’t incriminating, “Hauling all the produce from the fields into the shipment crates by myself has been terrible, especially with the heat wave we just got through.”

Doug blinked, taking a moment to respond. “Yeah, I can imagine.” He paused, watching Lest with a strangely guarded look, “Frey still giving you a hard time?”

Among other things, Lest had been using his recent hang outs with Doug as a release to complain about the very reason he was spending so much time away from the castle. “She’s just been busy,” he tried instead, “Since the festival’s only a few days out.”

Doug snorted, leaning back against the counter with a put off expression, “What’s the big deal anyways? Just hang up a few lights, watch some glowing bugs...I mean what’s more to do than that?”

Lest shrugged, letting out a withering sigh, “Normally, not much. But Arthur’s br--er, some pretty important people from the capital are visiting. Like, sons of the king important. So I know Frey and Arthur want this to go as well as possible. S they’re organizing a lot more than usual.”

Doug shrugged, the importance lost on him. “Still don’t see the big deal. So there’s a prince or two, doesn’t mean you’re doing any more than just watching some bugs. I mean--aren’t you and Frey also royalty or somethin’? Why’s it a big deal all of a sudden?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Lest covered the lie by clearing his throat lightly, “But this is different. They’re from out of town.”

“Still sounds like too big of a fuss we’re making over some fancy bureaucrats,” Doug seemed so genuinely bemused, Lest couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head incredulously. “It’s definitely no excuse to elbow you out of doing your own job,” Doug continued, to his surprise.

“It’s fine, I really don’t mind--”

“You should though,” Doug countered hotly, “I mean, that’s so unfair to you! I don’t really get it, but planning a festival sounds way more fun than, what’d you say the other day? Signing off on ‘ordinancies’?”

“Ordinances,” Lest corrected with a smile.

“Whatever. Point is, this isn’t fair to you,” Doug’s face cleared, and he turned to Lest excitedly, “Hey y’know what, you should totally confront her on it. Yould challenge her to a duel, swords or something you both know how to fight, and the winner gets to plan the festival.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Plus, that’s not...I don’t think that’s how these things work,” Lest responded hesitantly, “Besides, like I said, I’m not really bothered by it anymore--”

“Oh, shut up, I can tell it’s been bugging you. Otherwise you wouldn’t bring it up so much,” Doug seemed to consider something, before nodding to himself firmly.

“But--the festival’s in a few days, what could I possibly do at this point? It’s not worth it,” Lest provided.

“Well if you don't’ call her out on forcing you out now, she’ll just keep doing it again in the future right? Do you seriously wanna be saddled with a bunch of boring paperwork forever?”

Lest opened his mouth to respond, but came up short. Doug...had a point. One he hadn’t considered. What if Frey kept using his “work ethic” as an excuse in the future to make important decisions without him? Whether she liked it or not, he was technically  _ co- _ prince after all.

“Fine, I see your point,” he relented, “But I can’t just go in there and start making demands when she’s already so overworked.”

Doug watched Lest sternly for a moment, eyes running over him in a way that had his pulse speeding up again. Stupid heart. But the dwarf seemed to cave after a moment with no response, spiraling forward as he let his shoulders fall loosely.

“Whatever, do whatever works best for you, man,” he said, “Just know I’m still on the side of challenging her to a sword fight.”

“Ok, I’m definitely not doing  _ that _ ,” Lest paused, before sending Doug an amused look, “What is with you and solving everything with some sort of challenge?”

He shrugged lightly, “I’ve found it’s the most direct way to solve things.”

“Best way to get trapped arm wrestling Dylas for an entire afternoon, too,” Lest grinned, barely moving out of the way of Doug’s hand as he swatted at him.

They moved on to lighter topics after that, mostly to do with their shared excitement for the fall season just around the corner, until Lin Fa stopped in. While Doug helped her, Lest decided that was his cue to take off, sending Doug a quick wave as he ducked out of the store and into the late afternoon light.

Lest took his time walking back to the castle, deciding to go the long way around and enter through the back fields. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he went and letting his legs carry him along the familiar roads.

He’d gotten too close to Doug again today, the closest call he’d had in a while. Lest’s eyebrows drew together, mouth forming into a light frown. Nothing had happened this time, but that was no guarantee for the future. He hadn’t been thinking: had let his guard down until it had almost been too late to go back.

If he was going to really try this ‘friends’ thing, Lest really needed to start being more careful.

Nothing more awkward to explain away than accidentally kissing your friend. Which, really, shouldn’t be as much of an issue as it was currently. There was just something about Doug, it was like Lest was naturally drawn to him, pulled in.

At this point, it was almost an inevitability.

Lest thought on that the rest of the way back, pausing only when he’d reached the back entrance of the fields. The cabbage plot had been almost entirely emptied, but otherwise the area sat the same it had been when he’d tore through it in his haste to get away from Doug. When Doug had caught him, shoved him up against a tree--

Lest firmly clapped his hands to both his cheeks, staring firmly at the dirt under his feet as heat rose to his face. “Get a hold of yourself,” he muttered to himself sternly. He’d been doing a good job of keeping the fantasies at bay, at least around Doug, but on his own...it was hardly possible, taking conscious effort.

All of this, this strange obsession with the dwarf, it was getting far out of hand.

But one thing was shockingly clear: slips in the carefully constructed barriers Lest had drawn up were inevitable. Which meant a mistake was too, eventually.

He wasn’t quite sure what to do with that. He couldn’t start distancing himself from Doug again. He just...couldn’t. Not for his sake, or Doug’s.

He thought back to his conversation with Forte on the tower. She’d seemed to have confidence that this wasn’t going to end in tragedy, but then again, Forte wasn’t necessarily the best person to trust with matters of the heart. Lest had once seen her show up to a date dressed in full battle armor.

But if she had trust in him, truly...could telling Doug be the right thing to do?

“I think I’m going to ask him to the festival,” Lest muttered quietly, shocked at the sudden resolve that accompanied that statement.

It seemed a relatively safe option, all things considered. And well, if this was going to end in a shouting fest like last time, then he might as well initiate it himself rather than wait longer for an inevitable accident.

Lest nodded firmly to himself, striding back towards the castle. Not to mention his knees felt a little more pudding-like than they had moments before.

At the very least, a solid no from Doug might serve to cut off Lest’s silly crush if nothing else.

\--

It wasn’t until he’d entered their wing of the castle that Lest remembered his conversation with Doug.

Now, obviously sword fighting was out, but Frey was currently sitting staring at a stack of documents with a slightly vacant look. She didn’t greet him as he entered, but then she seemed to be zoning out enough so she didn’t notice him enter either. Well, now was as good a time as any, he supposed.

Maybe he could...just let her know. Gently. The last thing Lest wanted to do was start another fight, not after how tense things had been since their last one. But Frey was being unfair, she had to realize that. And if she didn’t, well. Maybe Doug had a point.

Nerves beginning to clutch his chest, Lest resolutely decided to blame Doug for this when it inevitably went wrong as he slowly approached Frey at her desk.

“Hey,” he started slowly. When Frey didn’t immediately respond, he lightly tapped the stack of documents in her vision. That got her to startle at least, looking up at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion.

“When did you come in?”

“You sound terrible,” Lest commented, running a finger along the edge of the papers. They looked to be some sort of signed form. Big surprise there, he’d thought Frey had managed to send all those his way. “You look it too,” he continued after a beat of silence, noting the heavy bags under Frey’s eyes.

“And feel it,” she huffed quietly, quietly swatting his hand away from her desk. He withdrew it without protest, lightly knocking the tip of his boot against the leg of the desk as he scratched the side of his face awkwardly.

“So,” he began.

“Lest, I really can’t help you right now. I already told you I’ll do the cabbages with you later,” she did a poor job of stifling a yawn, “after I finish up here.”

“What? Oh, I already did that this morning.” She glanced up at him again, with enough surprise that it poked painfully at his ego a bit. “That’s not why I wanted to talk...actually,” he pressed on, having to force the words stubbornly past his lips.

Frey watched him, glare scrutinizing, before heaving a sigh and folding her hands in front of her. “Alright, I suppose I can take a break for a minute...what is it?”

“I...” Lest trailed off, feeling antsy all of a sudden. “I kinda wanted to talk about this whole...excluding me from prince and princess work thing?”

He waited, bracing for the sharp words about his performance, or his laziness, but they never came. So he pressed on, “I know you’ve been doing it on purpose, giving me busy work and keeping me out of decisions. I mean, Arthur asked me to help with all this too, but I don’t even have a clue what’s been going on this entire time.

“I know you mean well, and you just want the best for the town or whatever but is it really that terrible trusting me with some of the workload? For my own job?” When Lest finished, he watched Frey expectantly, having to fight to keep his gaze locked on hers.

She leaned forward, resting against her folded hands, before finally sending a strange look at Lest. He swallowed thickly, waiting for her to speak, but she never did. Instead, Frey wilted a bit, before beginning to shuffle papers around on the desk. It was such a cluttered mess at this point, it took her quite a while to find whatever she was looking for: eventually producing some parchment that had been tied together in the corner with a bit of twine.

She offered it to Lest, who took it curiously.

“That’s a list of all the vendors in town that signed up to participate in the festival. Could you go around and make sure they’ve all got their preparations ready? Help with anything that’s not done, or ask if they’ll need anything else before the festival,” by the end of it, she’d already turned her attention back to the documents on the desk, expression still vacant.

Lest smiled gratefully, “Thanks Frey.” Gripping the papers in both hands, Lest turned and made his way out of the castle with renewed purpose.

\--

The day before the firefly festival, and Lest was wondering if perhaps Doug had the right idea from the beginning. While he was grateful Frey had started giving him more to do, even if it wasn’t anything major this far in, it proved to be a lot more work than Lest had thought, leaving him little time for the farm and none at all for loitering around the general store.

Not that he minded, he was happy to be included (finally) but not seeing Doug for several days was doing nothing for his nerves.

Lest was still set on asking him to the firefly festival. As a date, not a friend. But...he was so worried about it, he’d find himself staring blankly off during his chores, and was even managing to lose a bit of sleep over the anxiety that clogged his mind whenever he caught himself alone.

This was the best thing to do, right?

He’d already come to the conclusion that Doug was going to find out about how Lest felt one way or another: and that no amount of time and exposure around the dwarf was going to change the warm and fuzzies that had developed in Lest’s chest. But that didn’t make the actual act of asking him out any less terrifying.

He’d rather have to fight the Sechs again, in all honesty.

Fighting, Lest knew. It was, to an extent, predictable. At least he knew that a monster’s intentions were always to attack. This was different: he had no idea how Doug was going to react.

He’d thought he had, after watching him turn Frey down so brutally. But...could he allow himself the small sliver of hope that things might be different for him?

At the very least, he hoped Doug had gotten it out of his system enough to realize that these sorts of things required a lot more tact and a lot less temper.

No...if he raised his expectations past what had happened last time, Lest was just setting himself up for disaster. So he’d go on assuming the worst.

That didn’t change the fact he was going to go through with asking Doug out, regrettably.

Because on the other hand, on the remarkably slim chance things went well, that he  _ agreed _ ...the very thought of a ‘yes’ had Lest’s head reeling. It was enough motivation to carry Lest through his morning the day before the festival, anyways.

He wouldn’t have a chance to ask Doug until much later, what with assisting in preparations and his own farmwork. Which would end up working out for the best anyways, as Doug wouldn’t be closing up shop for lunch until the afternoon anyways.

He’d gone back to the familiar route that took him by the castle some time ago, so Lest would use that opportunity to jump the question on him.

“I can’t believe I’m so nervous,” Lest marveled to the buffamoo he was brushing, stomach in knots. “Seriously, I feel like I’ve been hit with poison spore gas.”

The buffamoo, as would be expected, offered no comment. It instead opted to continue chewing its feed, letting out small contented  _ mmrphs _ from time to time.

“I have to though, I just can’t back out at this point,” he continued, picking some fur out of the brush and letting it fall to the ground around his feet. He’d sweep later this week. “Alright, that does it for you,” Lest sighed, patting the monster lightly on the back. It let out a small, happy noise, as he moved on to the next in the barn.

The longer he brushed, milked, and refilled feeders, the closer it drew to the afternoon. As the time crept on, seconds turned to minutes and minutes to more: until Lest had essentially stopped working entirely, opting instead to pace nervously in front of one of the barns.

He was going to do this. He had to.

Glancing one more time at the sky, confirming it was just a bit after noon, he forced himself to walk mechanically back towards the castle.

Oh gods, what was he even going to say? He had half-thoughts and meager scripts lined up in his head from late nights staring awake at his ceiling, but nothing seemed right. All of it was too...sappy. Especially for him, who’d never much seen the appeal of all the gooey romance stuff Frey was always gushing over.

But Lest still very much liked the idea of kissing Doug, and if it took some corny eye batting to get him there, then so be it.

“Ok, ok, alright,” he muttered partway manically to himself as he washed up inside, using water from the bucket they kept by the door to splash water on his face and attempt to clean some of the monster-smell from his hands.

When he pulled them out of the water, they were shaking.

With a small frown, he stuffed them tightly into his pockets. The less he thought about how nervous he was, the more likely he’d actually be able to go through with this.

Almost out the door, Lest suddenly wondered if he should bring something. Was that customary, to give someone something when you asked them out? At the last moment, he decided he’d just end up procrastinating finding something in the castle and miss Doug entirely, so left without.

He watched his boots carefully as he stalked from the castle, steps light and nervous as he crossed the plaza, barely looking up at where he was going.

Lest paused, as he caught a flash of red hair, heart soaring in his chest. He felt frozen to the spot and as if the hot summer sun had finally begun to melt him all at once, slowly processing that Doug was stopped in the center of the plaza facing away from him.

Lest was about to force himself forward, when he caught someone else, standing across from him. Just as quickly as it had taken off, his heart had plummeted like a stone down into the pit of his stomach.

Opposite Doug, also not looking in his direction, Frey stood talking amiably (but notedly nervously) with the dwarf. Held between her was a small bouquet of Toyherb and Moondrop, which she extended sheepishly to Doug.

Suddenly, it made sense why Lest had seen so little of his roommate that day. He’d just assumed she was helping plan but…

She had been planning to ask Doug to the firefly festival instead.

Lest felt like his legs had turned to heavy metal, as he watched with bated breath, for Doug’s reaction as he slowly, awkwardly took the flowers. Even from here, Lest could tell he was blushing lightly, after having seen the same expression directed at himself so many times.

He couldn’t account for Frey’s reaction, didn’t want to, because suddenly that intense gray stare had caught his eye.

Lest’s legs were released suddenly, and he’d turned sharply around and practically run back towards the castle before he fully had the chance to process any of what had just happened.

The dragon room rushed by him in a blur of grey and green, Lest hardly paying attention to where he was going as he pushed back outside and continued through the fields.

Everything felt numb, and his limbs tingled with tiny pinpricks from the sensation. His lungs still hadn’t quite recovered, and Lest found himself nearly gasping for breath.

He didn’t stop until he felt a hot breeze hit his face, the planks of the tower’s observation deck sturdily beneath him. Winded and so hollow he felt he might crumble to dust, Lest sank into the bench furthest from the entrance and let his eyes unfocus as he stared at nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, time for that angst tag to really start applying :x


	12. Chapter 12

This was ridiculous, he knew he was being ridiculous. He’d known from the start that rejection was a real possibility. More than that: almost an inevitability.

But at the same time, it was different. He knew that. Because it hadn’t gone the way he’d imagined, had prepared for: with shouting and fighting.

He’d chosen Frey, plain and simple. Frey, over him. It seems she had him beat at just about everything these days, didn’t it? Even on the one person he’d started to think, maybe, might like him better.

Stupid, that had been stupid. He knew it had.

Lest had been lying to himself about not getting his hopes up about Doug’s answer: how else could he explain how thoroughly shattered he felt right now otherwise?

He wished he could have slept through the whole day, just existed in half-aware unconscious bliss until he didn’t have to think about his embarrassing notions of romance. But no such luck: Lest was up at sunrise just as he always was. And no matter how much he flipped around in bed and threw the covers over his head, he couldn’t seem to drift off.

The heavy weight in his chest kept him there though, sinking through the sheets and staring out blankly at the undecorated wall on the opposite side of the room. They’d talked about adding another table, filling the empty space, but Lest was hardly in his room as it was so he hadn’t seen the point.

Frey wandered in several times throughout the morning, and once Clorica, trying to wake him up but Lest pretended to sleep through the shaking and whispering. If he couldn’t sleep, the next best thing would be to sit in bed all day and feel sorry for himself.

It wasn’t like he could even sneak out to the forest or anything either, as the town was practically swarming with reminders of the festival he very much would rather forget existed entirely.

Plus, then he always ran the risk of accidentally bumping into Frey and--

Lest flipped over so he was facing the wall closest to his bed, jamming his pillow over his head. The darkness did nothing to quell the irritating thoughts and images of Frey and Doug, together, going on a  _ date _ , that filtered unbidden through his head.

With a muffled grunt, Lest threw back the bedspread and hopped out a bit too quickly. He had to balance on the edge a moment, as black spots swam in his vision, before setting off towards the changing screen in the corner of the room. Sitting around in his pajamas with nothing to do but let his imagination wander had been the wrong call.

Having changed into something a bit more street-worthy, Lest poked his head out of his room to check that the coast was clear. The last thing he needed was an unnecessary confrontation with Frey, where she’d inevitably gush over her plans with Doug, how he’d accepted her flowers and her stupid invitation to this ridiculous festival. Lest pouted but, seeing all was clear, used the opening to hurry out into the field and the orchard beyond.

It had been a couple years since he’d last climbed a tree: the need hadn’t arisen since his days of sneaking around in enemy territory had come to a close. But the bark of the tree felt familiar under his fingertips, grating against the covered palms of his gloves in a satisfying way as he made his way up the trunk and latched onto one of the lower hanging branches.

Lest settled in at the top of what appeared to be an orange tree, going as high as he dared without snapping one of the branches, and settling himself against the trunk: legs spread on either side of a branch for support. It wasn’t comfortable persay, but he could see the sky, and there was enough to see besides the stone walls of his bedroom that it should serve him well enough while he waited out the festival.

Apparently the gods weren’t entirely apathetic to his troubles, as Lest dozed in and out of sleep for the rest of the afternoon. It was a holiday, and he’d gone ahead and done all of today’s chores yesterday just in case...well, in case his plans hadn’t gone as terribly wrong as they had.

Which left him to sit and let time drift by as the sky turned from cerulean to rust to navy.

Only one other person even came near the orchard the entire day: emerging from the castle and crunching the sun-dried grass at the base of the trees as they skirted the perimeter, only to disappear back inside a few moments later. Probably one of the butlers.

When the sky had finally darkened considerably, and the lightning bugs had begun to lift and glow in the sky around him and he could hear the distant chatter of tourists and townsfolk out for the festival, did Lest figure it was probably time to go inside.

His legs felt numb when he hopped down, but he was able to move them after a moment, slinking back to the castle.

Luckily, everyone was too busy having fun to pay respects to an old dragon, so no one was in the dragon room as Lest settled against one of the planters against the back wall to sulk.

Because there was no better word for what he was doing: curled up with his knees drawn to his chest and his back to the cool stone planter as he watched the opening far head on the other side of the room that led out into the plaza. Every once in a while, someone would pass in front of it, usually in groups of two or more.

He’d always come here in the past when he was feeling down, or troubled. Obviously back then, the room hadn’t sat as empty or lonely as it did currently.

Talking to Ventuswill helped. For someone who could be so stubbornly childish, she always knew exactly what to say to make him feel better.

Lest sighed heavily, resting his chin against the arms crossed over his knees.

For the first time in quite a while, he felt the sharp, hollow pang to his stomach of loss for his friend. It had been so long since she’d left them, and life had moved on just as she said it would. But at times like this, Lest badly wanted to talk to her.

She’d listen to him, offer a shoulder to cry on, give him some sagely advice that would remind him just how old the native dragon truly was. Then she’d crack some joke and he’d have to tease her in turn, to get back. Then they’d talk like nothing had happened, and maybe he’d decide to be nice and make her some pancakes. She’d liked it when anyone brought the fluffy sweetbread, but Venti had assured Lest that his were by far the best she’d had in her many years.

That had always made him feel good.

Instead, he sat alone in the back of the room, watching an empty pedestal and longing for the past as tears he didn’t remember falling wet his cheeks.

Lest wiped his eyes hurriedly, embarrassed he’d caught himself getting so emotional over...just. Everything. It was all too much.

His face felt wet again.

This time, he didn’t try and stop it, sitting still and silent as he let himself feel terrible about everything that had happened. He hated it, crying. Especially over something so...shallow, as rejection. It felt too vulnerable, even when he was alone. Like he’d failed at the game of always being the one to stay together.

And tears invited pity, which was high up there on Lest’s black list.

But he supposed, maybe, if he was alone. And perhaps if he did so silently, he would allow himself to get upset. Just this once.

Because, damn it, he...he had  _ feelings _ for Doug. He cared about him, quite a lot. More than he would ever admit, even to himself on ordinary occasion. Lest had no idea when that had started, but loving Doug came almost as naturally as breathing to him now, and imagining a future where that wasn’t reciprocated pained him greatly.

Lest jolted, catching on the ‘l’ word he’d let slip so casually in his train of thoughts. It was…

No, it didn’t matter at all anymore anyways. He’d already chosen Frey, over him. As was his right to do. She’d asked him first, anyways. Asked him at all, actually.

Lest let out a small, bitter laugh that shook only a little, “And what did I do? Harass him for weeks. It’s no wonder,” he said quietly. He should count himself lucky enough for Doug to call him a friend, nothing more.

“I shouldn’t’ve expected anything more,” Lest said, an involuntary hiccup punctuating the end of the sentence.

He regretted making any sound at all, because the next moment a garbled “Hello?” came ringing down the hall leading back to the butler’s chambers. Lest froze, clinging to his knees tightly as the voice continued to call out, drawing closer. He desperately didn’t want to be caught crying, alone, during a festival. But for some reason, his limbs wouldn’t work enough to carry him up and out.

But as the voice neared it became familiar and Lest’s eyebrows rose. He made the connection at the same time a painfully familiar mop of red hair emerged from the hall to his right.

“Lest?”

And then those deep grey eyes were on Lest again, and it felt the same as if a dagger had been plunged into him instead. He found himself completely frozen, halfway between dejected and terrified, as Doug bounded over to him.

He turned away harshly, only seeing Doug’s knees as he knelt down on the stone floor next to Lest.

“Lest, hey, c’mon,” Doug’s voice was surprisingly warm as he spoke, lowering himself fully on the ground by Lest. And where was Frey? Surely she was missing him by now, the festival should be fully underway at this point. Lest was tempted to make another bitter noise, but remembered he had very unwelcome company.

“Lest,” Doug repeated his name again, oh so gently, and his voice was so achingly soft that a shudder ran across Lest’s skin. “Hey, buddy, are you….have you been crying?”

Lest looked up at that suddenly, nerves crackling and throat lumping closed as he was met with a pair of strikingly gray eyes, so close Lest could once again make out the flecks of blue in them, even in the failing light.

Doug’s expression morphed from worried, to upset, then back again, shifting as rapidly as he searched Lest’s face. It hurt, watching those eyes, wanting them so badly, but Lest couldn’t stand to look away. Even as Doug slowly, haltingly, brought a hand up to his cheek.

Lest hadn’t even realized what Doug had been doing, until he felt his thumb gently graze the ridge of one of his cheeks, and he was greeted with the unpleasant damp sensation of the tears that had already streaked down there.

“No,” Lest mumbled stubbornly, his voice breaking on the word despite it being said hardly above a whisper.

“You’re ridiculous, man,” there was no malice in his voice, just concern.

The idea of Doug being concerned for him was too much for Lest to take at the moment, and he embarrassingly felt tears begin to well at the corners of his eyes again.

“Hey, shit, c’mon,” Doug seemed upset, a bit frantic, as he shifted closer to Lest: sitting so close now he had to angle his knees to the side so they weren’t in the way. “Did I say something stupid? I’m sorry, I-I--just tell me why you’re crying.”

“I’m not,” Lest’s lip jutted out into a pout, his words wholly unconvincing.

Doug’s expression reflected as much, and his other hand managed to find its way up as well, so he was cupping Lest’s face gently in the rough palms of his hands. Lest hated himself for leaning into the contact.

“Just tell me what’s wrong,” Doug searched his face, eyes pleading, “Please.”

“Shouldn’t you be out having fun with Frey right now,” Lest muttered bitterly instead, “F-festival’s not going to last all night you know.” He’d meant to sound mean, rude enough to send Doug away again although he knew it would hurt worse than before, but the dwarf didn’t budge. Perhaps on account of him sounding anything but defiant: Lest’s voice coming out meak and wobbly. He despised the sound of it.

Instead, he was met with a look of total confusion. “I--uh, no?” Brief consideration flashed across his face, before setting back gently on Lest, his mouth forming a worried frown, “I think she’s with Arthur right now, actually. Do you...did you want me to get her?”

“No!” He shot a bit too quickly. “I just thought you’d want to be out with her right now, is all, instead of...watching me cry alone in an empty room.”

Doug shook his head quickly, the minor amount of hurt in his eyes mirrored in Lest’s own chest. “Man, I’ve hardly seen her. I spent all day looking for you.”

“You--” Lest blinked, confused. The action sent the welling tears rolling down his face, but that had become a background concern for the moment. “What?”

“Yeah, I--” he looked sheepish, “You weren’t anywhere around, so I sort of tore up the whole town searching. By the end of it figured you were just avoiding me again...or that you’d gone outside of town limits or something. I actually checked Yokmir, all the way down to the ruins but...where were you anyways?”

“Up a tree,” Lest muttered, too confused to sound bitter. Had that actually been Doug who’d wandered into the orchard earlier? “But what does it matter? I thought you...didn’t Frey ask you on a date today? Why...why stand her up to look for me?”

“Oh. Right, that,” Doug looked genuinely guilty, and a bit flustered, and the pain began to creep back into his chest. “Lest I...dunno what she told you, but I turned Frey down yesterday. Um, again.”

Lest blinked, mouth forming a tight line as he scrutinized Doug’s expression, searching for the lie. He came up with nothing but the same, gentle concern that had been plastered there since he’d found the boy. After a moment of staring, Doug seemed to turn a bit bashful, the blood in his cheeks more than visible at their proximity as his gaze dipped away. “But then  _ why _ \--”

“I was waiting for you to ask me,” he shrugged, eyes flitting back to Lest’s. They looked shy, and hopeful.

Suddenly, he was having some trouble remembering how to breath. So all Lest managed to get out was an incredibly winded “Oh.”

“You don’t, jeez, you don’t mind do you?” He was back to being embarrassed, grip on Lest’s face tightening slightly. He started to withdraw his hands, but Lest quickly covered Doug’s with his own, holding them there.

“No.” It was all he could manage to get out. “But, I don’t understand... _ how _ ?”

Doug opened his mouth, response parting his lips, but he remained silent. After a moment, he set his eyes firmly on Lest’s, shrugged, and instead of a response leaned gently forwards.

Doug’s lips made contact with Lest before he’d had enough time to process what was happening to shut his eyes, but that was quickly fixed as he returned the kiss. His mind was swirling with a million thoughts at once, shock being a forefront in them.

But all of it, his dejection, his confusion, seemed to fall away as he felt Doug gently move his lips against Lest.They were soft. Softer than he’d imagined, on the many late nights where he’d lost sleep. And they tasted bitterly of something almost like sawdust. That observation alone had Lest melting against Doug, for whatever reason, suddenly convinced there was too much remaining space between the two despite nearly being pressed flush against the dwarf.

Registering Lest’s response, Doug deepened the kiss: removing a hand from his cheek and letting it run back through his hair, landing at the base of his skull. Dull nails scraped against the skin there, as he pulled Lest towards him. With his other hand, he braced himself against the planter at Lest’s back, arm grazing lightly against his shoulder.

Lest let out a small gasp at that, his own hands falling to grip at the fabric of Doug’s shirt. After a breath, the dwarf started to pull away, but Lest decided he wasn’t ready for this beautiful mistake to end yet.

He ran his hands back, wrapping them securely around Doug’s neck and pulling him closer, locking them together.

It was only when Lest had begun to get a bit light headed, scalp tingling pleasantly as it brushed against the warm air around them, that he finally released his vice lock on the dwarf. Even then, he lingered a moment longer, not wanting it to end.

Again, so, so close. But this time, the only thing that filled Doug’s gaze was endearment.

They were both a little out of breath, Lest a bit more so, but he decided he’d give himself a pass since he’d been crying just moments before.

“That was…” Lest breathed, trailing off without finishing. He had no words for the emotions running through him now: elated so rapidly from a spiral of despair that he was left dizzied from the rapid change.

Doug pulled his arm back to his side, but the other lingered in Lest’s hair, angling around until he was once again holding the side of his face. Lest couldn’t unlock his limbs well enough to move, despite the position being a bit uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” Doug said finally, “I shouldn’t’ve done that without asking I just..”

“Don’t apologize,” Lest assured him, heaving in a deep breath, before letting it puff out slowly through his cheeks. “There’s no need.”

“Your…” a glance over proved Doug had turned a deep red, almost indistinguishable from the color of his hair, “Your lips, they’re really soft.”

Lest grinned. “Right back at you.”

Doug’s response was an incomprehensible series of splutters, that ended in him coughing from choking on his own words. Lest released him, leaving Doug to turn away as he attempted futally to regain his breath enough to speak.

“Done?” Lest smiled. “See, if I’d known you were getting all choked up over me this whole time, I might’ve asked you out tonight after all.”

“Sure,” Doug grinned, “You’re the worst, by the way.”

“True. You’ve got pretty terrible taste, Doug,” he was still a giddy, smiling mess through all this though, which definitely detracted some of the bite from his words.

“You did leave me waiting a while,” Doug said simply with a shrug.

Lest pouted, shoving him lightly in the shoulder. “Then you should have asked  _ me _ , dummy. What if it was one sided?”

Another shrug. “Really? Dude, you’re pretty obvious.”

Lest paled, watching Doug with wide eyes. “You...knew? For how long?” He sounded mortified, embarrassed he hadn’t picked up on the dwarf’s observation.

“Eh...for a while? You did sorta try n’ kiss me...twice,” Doug looked a bit flushed at that, glancing away quickly. Somehow, his blatant shyness was strangely adorable, considering he was normally so bold.

“Oh gods,” Lest blanched, shaking his head. “Although I’ll say it again, why not tell me?” He was incredulous.

Doug glanced back quickly. “I sort of ran it by Forte one day when I was visiting Kiel...figured she’s done the whole romance thing before, so she’d know how to handle this.”

So, Doug being a little thick wasn’t entirely out of question for the time being. But that...also made a lot more sense. Forte never would have picked up on Lest’s crush on her own, gods, how had he been so blind? It made perfect sense.

“She told me to let you make the first move,” Doug continued sheepishly. “Said you probably didn’t realize how you felt yourself, and if I pushed things too quickly you might push away...guess that didn’t matter, since you started ignoring me anyways.”

“Yeah, uh, sorry about that,” Lest said, genuinely apologetic. “I’m not ignoring you now, though,” he added, to lighten things a bit, as he angled Doug’s face towards his own. Now with the absence of the pain they’d caused him, all Lest wanted to do was get lost in the beautiful little expressions Doug made. His eyes withheld none of his thoughts.

“Good,” Doug breathed, shifting slightly against him.

“Won’t happen again,” Lest said quietly, leaning forward until his forehead brushed against Doug’s.

“Promise?” The question was more of a sigh than anything.

“Absolutely. ‘Sides, I think you’re going to have more trouble getting rid of me at this point,” Lest shut his eyes lightly.

“Jeez, I hope so.”

That served to snap the last of Lest’s self control, and he drew Doug towards him again as he pressed him firmly into a deep kiss. Doug didn’t fight it, pressing himself against Lest until the cool stone of the planter began to dig pleasantly through the back of his tunic.

It was easy to lose track of time, kissing Doug, but it was a wonderful sort of nonexistence. The time, the location, the fact they were still sat on a hard stone floor, none of it even registered in Lest’s mind. Quite a while later, when they’d both needed to part for air, Lest had instead taken to leaning his head lightly against Doug’s shoulder.

They both sat with their backs to the wall, staring up at the deep navy sky that filtered in through the skylight in the center of the roof, watching the stars above them wink and twinkle. Not quite fireflies, but with his position lying against Doug with his arms wrapped around him, it was still more than he could have ever hoped for.

They sat like that a long time, barely talking, until the stars began to fade out above them and make way for the pale, bright light of the morning.

And Lest decided he wouldn’t have traded anything, even a full night’s sleep and a back that didn’t once again ache, for this moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite being chronically stupid, they finally made it :D  
> This effectively serves as the last chapter, the next being something of an epilogue (bc I need more Lest/Doug fluff thanks).


	13. Chapter 13

“Hey.”

“Uh...hi,” Lest watched as Frey walked slowly across the field towards him. She offered a small smile, kneeling down next to him in a row of cucumbers.

It had been several days since the festival, and he hadn’t seen much of her. Honestly, he’d assumed she was just resting after what had been an intense last few weeks. So it had been a bit of a surprise when he’d wandered onto the fields that morning and found Frey already at work, harvesting green peppers.

“Need any help?” She glanced at Lest hopefully, but still with some reservation.

“Um, sure. Yeah,” Lest offered her an empty basket and a pair of sheers, before going back to his own work picking cucumbers.

She nodded her thanks, shifting to work on the side opposite of him. They sat in silence like that for a while, the only sound between them the occasional snipping of stems. It was the most peaceful things had been between the two in a long time, Lest realized.

“Hey, I wanted to talk, if you’re up for it,” Frey started quietly.

Lest’s eyebrows drew together, and he fumbled the cucumber in his hands a bit. “What about?” He forced casually. Hadn’t they moved past this?

“I need to apologize. For...the way I’ve been treating you.”

Surprised, Lest let the sheers drop softly into the dirt, leaning back on his heels as he turned to face Frey fully. She had her back to him, but she’d stopped snipping as well.

“I thought you already apologized,” Lest asked, a bit suspiciously.

“Yes, but,” her shoulders fell, “not for what I should have. I...haven’t been fair to you.” With a long sigh, she finally leaned back, turning to half-face him. Her expression was clouded, and the firm set of her expression told Lest just how difficult a conversation this was for her.

Curious, he opted to remain silence: giving her a chance to collect her thoughts in her own time.

“I know you and Doug are together,” she blurted suddenly, turning her head away again.

“O-oh,” Lest flinched, nerves beginning to bundle in his chest, anxious and awkward. He’d been sort of...dreading this conversation. Seeing as Frey had liked him first and been rejected...twice. “That’s...I mean. Yeah, we sorta are,” he admitted, anxiously scraping some of the dirt off one glove with his thumb.

“I also know you,” she took in a deep breath, releasing it in a heavy sigh, “That you’ve liked him almost as long as I have.”

“Well, I don’t know if it was  _ that _ \--”

“I’m not done,” Frey gave him a tired look. “And don’t try and deny it either. I saw how you got whenever he was around, and once you started the teasing…” She made a face. “Which shouldn’t have bothered me, I know it shouldn’t have but...the way he looked back at you, especially after you started  _ bugging  _ him all the time, it was clear he liked you better.”

Frey sighed, deflating entirely in one breath. She looked weary. “It was too much and I...started shutting you out.”

“Like with the festival?” Lest asked, realization slowly dawning on him.

“Yeah,” she looked guiltily away, “Exactly like that. It was stupid, and immature, but I felt like I had more of a right to him than you. Since I’d liked him first, and--and since I’d actually gotten up the courage to confess and--I ended up taking it out on you.”

“That’s…” Lest chewed the inside of his cheek, “Wow, I mean...alright. I mean...why bring this up now?”

“It was when I asked Doug to the festival,” she sighed. “I think I’d still be holding out hope that just  _ maybe _ if I beat you to him, I’d still have a chance. But...standing there, I felt ridiculous.”

Lest’s chest felt tight, remembering the pain that had accompanied the witnessed confession. “Why?” he asked, trying to keep the tightness lodged in his throat.

“I realized I didn’t actually have feelings for him anymore. So, ah, don’t worry about me being jealous or anything, I really am over it,” she sent him a small smile, eyes still clouded. “I realized I was just being stubborn. I felt like I’d somehow  _ lost _ to you, and was so obsessed with proving I was better, that I wasn’t...that you hadn’t defeated me, I kept putting you down,” she admitted.

Frey laughed bitterly, void of any humor. “It was an awful reason to make things so awkward between us. My own stupid pride.”

“Frey…” Lest watched her, a mixture of justifiable betrayal and strange sadness at her own self-deprecation mingling in his chest.

“You don’t have to forgive me, I know I was being mean for no good reason, but...I do want you to know, I am really, really sorry,” she looked up at him, that same hopeful expression tainted by the same strong guilt.

“Honestly?” Lest decided firmly, “I hate having to not talk with you anymore. I just want things to go back to normal It...yeah, what happened made be feel pretty awful but--I guess I could have made the effort of thinking about how you felt in all this, with your crush on Doug and all.”

“ _ Old _ crush. That ship’s sailed,” Frey assured him.

Lest let out a small chuckle, “Man, we really do have to do everything together, don’t we?”

Frey smiled at that, some of the tension easing from her. “I hate to say it, but that’s true.” Her expression turned stern, but playfully so, “I swear though Lest, if you start liking Arthur more after this too, I’m going to smack you with a hoe.”

“Don’t worry, I’m perfectly happy with how things turned out for me,” he grinned. “I’m not going to be playing homewrecker again, at least anytime soon.”

A thought occurred to Lest suddenly, and an impish grin invaded his face, “But Arthur, huh?”

Frey’s face lit up in an obvious blush, and she sent him a glare daggered enough it was sharper than any farming sheers. “Not a word.”

“I mean I guess I can see the appeal...sorta,” Lest mused, delighting in Frey’s exasperated expression. “Sleep deprivation and paperwork...very attractive.”

Lest jumped up, not quite managing to jump out of the way in time as Frey hurled a clump of soil at him. “Hey, leave some of that for the cucumbers!” he called, as she tried again, this time hitting him firmly in the leg. “What does it for you, the glasses? Oh--oh man, are you going to start wearing glasses now too? He’s got like a thousand pairs or something in his office, has he ever--hey!”

Frey had jumped up, now toting a full cucumber.

“Don’t waste the produce!” he called, but Lest was laughing, taking off down the row of vegetables as Frey chased after him, basket clutched under one arm.

As he darted out of the field and into their patch of knee-high monster grass, Lest couldn’t help but grin, more than happy things had finally gone back to normal.

\--

Lest scuffed the tip of his boot against the cobblestone, stuffing his hands in his pockets impatiently. He’d been leaning against the front wall of the clinic for nearly half an hour...how long was Doug supposed to be in there?

He had the day off, and Lest had confirmed with Dulce on her way out that he’d spent the time visiting with Blossom who was still recovering in her extended stay at the clinic. But there was only so many clouds he could stare at before Lest started getting antsy.

Just as he was thinking of trying again later, at the general store maybe, the door to the clinic swung open.

Trying not to look too eager, he spun around and nearly slammed right into Doug as he exited the clinic. Instead, he felt himself caught sturdily by the shoulders, met with a confused then cheerful expression.

“Lest?”

He shrugged, again playing down how much of a relief this was from the boredom that was standing around waiting. “Hey.”

“What’re you doing here?” His face was a mask of worry suddenly, “Is something wrong? Did you get hurt?’

“No, no nothing like that,” Lest assured quickly, immediate relief flooding Doug’s face. “I was waiting for you to finish up in there. I thought I’d...walk you home?” He looked up hopefully at Doug, who was watching him with a lopsided smile.

“Alright, works for me,” he replied.

“Let’s go then,” Lest continued eagerly, not waiting before grabbing Doug’s hand in his and yanking him forward. His skin felt rough and warm against his palm, even through the barrier of the glove, and he could feel a soft smile rise to his lips.

“You’ve got a stupid look on your face,” Doug commented, smiling playfully.

“Too bad,” Lest commented, “Guess you’ll just have to deal with my dumb face for a while, then.” Doug chuckled lightly, squeezing Lest’s hand a little tighter.

“How was Blossom?” Lest asked as they entered the plaza.

“Good, from what i could tell,” Doug’s eyes drifted off, expression softening as he thought back, “She kept getting after me for my posture, so she’s definitely doing a lot better than she has been. Doc says they’re just keeping her in to be careful, especially since she kept trying to go out on her own ‘n al, but that she’ll be good to come back to the store in a few days.”

“That’s great, Doug,” Lest smiled genuinely, Doug returning the gesture when he glanced back.

Lest was forced to let go of Doug so he could unlock the door to the store, which truly was a shame. When it was open, he turned, watching Lest with a slightly sheepish expression.

“So...thanks for walking me back, I guess,” he started.

Doug began to look a little confused when Lest didn’t respond, nor made any move to walk away. Instead, he said, “What you think I’d go to the trouble of waiting this long for you just to walk you home?”

When Doug didn’t respond right away, Lest easily side-stepped around him and pushed through the unlocked door, into the shop. He smiled, as Doug made a small noise of surprise. Lest ran a hand along the banister of the stairs leading up to the small living area above the shop, tapping the wood with one finger. It was a little dusty: evidence Blossom hadn’t been home in several weeks. He heard the door shut behind him, turning.

“So…” Doug started.

“Aren’t you going to invite me upstairs?” Lest asked boldly, delighting in the way Doug’s face immediately turned a bright crimson, mouth working around nonsensical words.

“Come on, I love the shop and all, but it’s not the best place to chat, is it?”

Doug seemed just a little relieved at that, sending Lest a sharp look as he made his way towards the stairs. “Fine. C’mon up then,” he muttered under his breath, still looking a little pink as Lest followed him up to the second story.

Despite his bold insistence, Lest was actually a bit anxious as he ascended after Doug. The upstairs portion of the shop was nothing like he’d imagined: although Lest wasn’t quite sure what he’d been expecting to begin with. It was...quaint. Even Doug’s room, from the brief glance he got in (it was labeled with a crudely drawn plaque by the door) seemed normal if not a bit cluttered. Certainly not filled with swords and staffs.

But Doug’s room wasn’t Lest’s final goal...today, at least.

Instead, he strode all the way to the back corner of the room, where a barely organized kitchenette took up most of the back wall. Without hesitation, Lest began pulling open cabinet doors, taking note of the contents in each, before shutting them again.

Doug stood, a bit dumbstruck, at the edge of one counter. “What are you doing?”

“You said Blossom usually does all the cooking,” Lest remarked, casually going through another drawer. It was filled with, unsurprisingly, more rice. At least Doug knew what he liked. He grabbed a bag, placing it on an empty part of the counter.

Drilling his fingers against the polished wood, Lest turned back to face Doug. “Figured the least I could do was help out a little.”

Doug looked bemused for a moment before a childish smile split his face. It got Lest’s heart racing and if he wasn’t certain it would have completely distracted him from the task he’d assigned himself, Lest could have gone over and locked his lips against that wonderful grin right there.

“Seriously? Aw man, your cooking is  _ the best _ , seriously.” Doug crossed the kitchen eagerly, nearly bouncing excitedly as he hovered by Lest as he continued to take down ingredients, including a large pot he’d found in one of the lower cabinets.

It wasn’t much, but he’d found some pickled ingredients in the small fridge, so he decided riceballs was a safe enough choice.

Doug continued to hover as he put the rice in the steamer, and as Lest chopped ingredients. He just looked so excited, taking note of everything Lest did like he were trying to commit it to memory. Lest shook his head with a soft smile. It was just rice balls. Although considering how much Doug loved onigiri...perhaps that had actually been an understatement.

When the rice had finished cooking, Lest paused, turning to Doug and nearly knocking into him in doing so for how close he was standing. “Want to help?”

Doug looked concerned for a moment, “Ah, man, I dunno. I feel like I’d mess it up.”

Lest shrugged, “I’m just shaping the rice. I’ll show you what to do.”

Reluctantly, Doug nodded, and Lest slid the bowl towards him. It turned out Lest’s confidence was a little misplaced, and Doug hadn’t been lying when he said he wasn’t good anywhere near a kitchen. But he’d made extra, thinking Doug could save some, so a few wonky shapes could slide.

“You’re packing it way too firmly,” Lest added, watching Doug over his shoulder, “It’s gonna get stuck to your hands if you keep mashing it like that.”

Doug let out a small, frustrated grunt. “I know, I know, I just--”

“Here, let me help,” Lest reached around Doug, grabbing the misshapen ball of what had once been rice and attempting to work out the lumps with his thumbs. Resting his chin lightly on Doug’s shoulder as he worked, the dwarf’s hands merely hovered below his, and it took a moment for Lest to realize the dwarf was completely motionless against him.

It took him another full second to comprehend the position he’d moved in, arms wrapped firmly around Doug from behind.

Lest smirked, tossing the rice in his hands with less attention as he glanced over and caught what he could of the border of a blush coloring Doug’s face.

“Why so tongue-tied? Never had anyone show you how to make onigiri?” Lest chuckled, lowering his voice so he wasn’t yelling right in Doug’s ear. He didn’t miss the shudder that ran up the spine pressed to his chest, and he chuckled again.

When Lest finally pulled away, Doug still seemed plastered to the counter, red covering his face all the way up to the tips of his ears.

“Know how to do it now?” Lest asked casually, not doing a good job of hiding his silent laughter.

“That’s cheating,” Doug managed to get out breathily, turning to face Lest with a stubborn pout.

“Your face is cheating,” Lest only half-joked, wrapping his arms around Doug’s neck, rice balls forgotten.

“That was terrible,” Doug hissed, looking incredibly flustered.

“Now is that any way to talk to someone whose cooking for you?” Lest teased.

Doug seemed to take it a little more seriously however, as his eyes were immediately turned on Lest’s. However ‘terrible’ Doug might think he was, he’d never know just how much damage that beautiful gray did to him.

“Sorry, I--I didn’t mean to be rude. I--”

Lest cut him off by kissing him lightly on the mouth, feeling the last half of the sentence rumble off his lips. When he pulled away, Doug had somehow managed to look even more flustered.

“Don’t worry, I know you’ve always liked my cooking. You’re very sweet, though,” Lest smiled, not giving Doug another chance to respond as he leaned in and pressed another kiss to Doug’s lips, deepening it this time.

Onigiri now completely abandoned, all Lest could think about was the warmth pressed against him, wondering if Doug noticed when he pulled him in tighter, fingers bunching up in the back of Doug’s jacket.

And the taste on his lips was just like the sun, warm and sickly sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this has been a joy to write, and I loved being a part of this event.
> 
> The fantastic artwork was made by PinkSwampGoblin here:  
> https://twitter.com/PinkSwampGoblin/status/1297855068121772032?s=20
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr as well at Sweet--Bun
> 
> Thanks for reading :,D


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